


Duality

by EIectricScarIet



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Red Wedding, F/M, Fluff, Game of Thrones spoilers, I'm Going to Hell, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6911803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EIectricScarIet/pseuds/EIectricScarIet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through a series of unfortunate events, Kyra, daughter of the late Celesse Tyrnea, is sent to live with House Stark until her 16th name day. She never expected the Starks to become like her new family... and she certainly never expected for their oldest son to become something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but nevertheless, Kyra pushed her horse on forward towards the city gates. She clung to her late mother's will like it was her lifeline, the paper trembling in her grip as the horse trotted steadily, apparently unaffected by the palpable gloom in the air.

It didn't help that it was snowing down hard. But then again, Winterfell was always snowy. Or cold, at least. Kyra's eyes fell on the will, and it finally occurred to her that she should keep it out of the snow's reach. She tucked it in underneath her black cloak, away from harm's reach. That was her only ticket to a relatively safe home.

She remembered her mother well, even though she had died 7 years earlier. Her name was Celesse Tyrnea, and her eyes shone a brilliant blue and her hair was a long, silky black. She was beautiful and kind, and everything else in between. She would have made a good queen, she used to think in her years of innocence, fair and kind to all. But then she grew up, and realised that the burden of the Iron Throne was only entrusted to a King and court riddled with corruption and madness.

Celesse's will had only been recovered a moon prior to her ride to Winterfell. She had not been permitted to read it when she was back in King's Landing, but all she had been told was that her mother's gold had been passed down to her, or whoever was in custody of her until she came of age, and her possessions as well. But Kyra did not want to keep the items that had belonged to her mother. Too many memories broken on the floor like shattered glass. She was too afraid to pick up the pieces, in fear of being overwhelmed by her sorrow.

So instead she burned all of it upon a blazing fire just after she left King's Landing. She'd abandoned the cart that had formerly filled to the brim with Celesse's belongings, too. After all, carrying a huge cart filled with valuable belongings would have been stupid, and without a doubt would draw the attention of brigands and highwaymen all over Westeros.

Kyra studied the drab stone walls of Winterfell, pleading to the Gods to find her a way to get out of this place. She already disliked it. She didn't mind the cold, not at all, but it was the dismality; the way it lacked all lustre and life. It was grey, desolate and bleak.

 _At least it's only 1 year._ She tried in vain to make things seem better for herself. _And I suppose it's better than hiding in King's Landing from King Robert._ She let out a dry huff of laughter. A silly place to hide, if King Robert was searching for the last Targaryen children.

 _No. I am not a Targaryen. Nor will I ever be._ She told herself fiercely. She refused to take on the guilt of the previous generations of her father's family. Their deeds did not shape her as a person. But apparently, there were people such as the King who thought this.

Before Kyra knew it, she was standing before the gates of Winterfell. It seemed that the guards knew exactly who she was, as the gates swung open with a dull creak. She rode in, directing her horse to the stables. Without so much as a word she dismounted and handed the reins to the stablehand.

Her boots sinking into the summer snow, she approached the main keep where the Starks were said to be housed, Celesse's will in hand.

**~**

The Starks were infamous for their seemingly eternal cheerlessness, or so she'd been told. She was somewhat delighted to find that this wasn't the case. While they did seem a tad melancholy, the family seemed kind and welcoming to her upon her arrival, and the children without a doubt seemed joyful and chipper.

Lady Catelyn was sitting beside her husband, Lord Eddard, at a long wooden table when she happened upon the two. There were no children present; Kyra guessed that they were outside, or something. Whatever Stark offspring tended to do in this bleak city.

She was pleased to find that the civilians were willing to point her in the direction of the great hall. She found her way there and when she entered, Lord and Lady Stark were sitting together by the hearth. At her entrance, they looked up at her and said nothing as she approached them and wordlessly pushed the will into Lord Eddard's hands.

Immediately he noticed the name of Kyra's mother at the top of the will. "You are the daughter of Celesse Tyrnea?"

"That would be me."

"We received a raven at the time of her death, speaking of your mother's untimely passing. It was saddening to hear."

"Yes... I know." Kyra replied dumbly. _Of course it was sad. She died, for the love of the Gods!_ She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting down the possibility of a lump in her throat. "She wanted you to read the will."

He unrolled the will and fixed his eyes onto the words. " _I, Lady Celesse of House Tyrnea, grant that upon my death, my daughter will be cared for by my good friends and allies, the House of Stark. If the gods be good and the Starks accept, my daughter shall stay until she is of age to leave and take care of herself in the world._ " Eddard read only the words that were of their business. He rolled the paper back up and placed it on the table. "Of course we will grant you lodgings for the next year, my Lady."

She hesitantly met the Lord's eyes. "My Lord, I would feel as if my stay were unmerited were I not to offer my service in some way. Please, I would be honoured if you were to grant me any kind of job here, to earn my housing."

"If you insist, my Lady." The Lady Catelyn was as beautiful as the tales bid her, with long reddish brown hair and the Tully blue eyes. "First if we may hear of your skills..."

"I can fight," Kyra began limply, feeling at a loss for words. "With a bow, and blades. And I know my way around a kitchen, if it please my Lord and Lady. I can care for your daughters too, if you wish it."

The rulers of House Stark studied Kyra carefully for a few moments, before Catelyn Stark spoke up warmly. "Don't fret, my dear. We'll find a way for you to assist us. For now, please, feel at home. Again, our deepest condolences for your mother."

Kyra simply dipped her head, feeling the surge of sorrow once again. She turned away, eager to leave the keep and find some time to herself, before Lord Eddard Stark stopped her.

"I don't believe we caught your name," he simply said.

Kyra turned back for a moment, hesitating a moment before she told them, "My name is Pandora."

**~**

Once Kyra left the main room of the keep, she found her way outside to the archery range. Catching a glimpse of the targets and practice dummies brought her a small joy, until she saw the people there.

Two of them were no doubt Stark children. They both had curly dark hair on their heads and almost looked like twins until she caught a glimpse of their faces. One had brown eyes, and one had a bright steely blue gaze. And their facial features were quite varied, but she could see the resemblance. Beside them, another man close to their age stood. He had lighter coloured hair, and had a lanky stance about him. She sighed softly. So much for some time alone. She supposed she would make do. They wouldn't bother her.

She slid her hand beneath her black cloak, the hood still framing her face, and drew out her bow which had been hidden beneath. She slipped the quiver of arrows off her arm and repositioned it so she could reach it. Without delay, she stalked to the archery target furthest from the boys and slid an arrow between her fingers. She pulled it back against the string and let fly, the satisfying sound of a bowstring releasing music to her ears.

It was a perfect distraction.

**~**

Robb wasn't sure if Theon and Jon had noticed when she stole into the archery range, but he sure did. He pretended not to, as he didn't have the foggiest clue who the girl was. He saw a flash of jet black hair before she turned away and readied her bow.

He saw Theon glimpsing at her from the corner of his eye, no doubt intrigued by the girl. As archery was his forte, and a female warrior was not found often in Westeros. Or at least, not one that petite.

"By the Gods, she's small." The ward of Winterfell breathed, his hot breath billowing in the frosty air. "Haven't even seen her face or body, thanks to that cloak, and I'd already like to-"

"Theon." Jon had the ability to reprimand someone with a single word. An ability Robb liked to think he shared.

"We need to get you inside a girl, Snow," without missing a beat, Theon continued. "Ever since you rejected Ros, you've been more uptight than ever."

"Theon." Robb's voice came out harder than he'd expected it to. "That's enough about girls." He cast a slightly concerned look at his half brother, which the bastard returned with a small shake of his head as if to say, It's fine.

Robb found his eyes wandering to the girl again. She had drawn the hood back from her face and was now side on. Her features were delicate but hardened, in a way he hadn't thought possible. With high, but not chiselled cheekbones and a slightly smaller than usual nose which had a satisfying curve to it. He found himself unwilling to tear his gaze away.

"Any idea who that is?" Robb turned back to Theon and Jon.

"Not the foggiest, but she's a fine specimen." Theon smirked. "Wouldn't mind a bit o' rough and tumble, eh?" He chuckled and playfully elbowed Robb in the side, his laugh faltering when he saw that neither of the Starks were laughing. "What?"

"She's our guest for the next year." A familiar voice came from behind them. "Have no mind to bed her, Theon Greyjoy."

Robb held back an amused smirk as he turned around. "Father." He greeted respectfully.

Jon gave a nod of equal respect, but spoke no words.

"My apologies, Milord Stark." Robb knew that Theon didn't really mean it.

"Her name is Pandora, daughter of Celesse Tyrnea." Ned Stark didn't acknowledge Theon's empty apology. "Her mother was a good friend of House Stark and House Tully before she died. So she asked in her will if she would be accepted to stay until her 16th name day comes."

"So that makes her 15." Robb noted, turning his eyes back to her. She had noticed they were speaking of her, so it seemed, as she had unstrung her bow and reequipped her quiver beneath her cloak.

"My Lady Pandora," Ned called out. She turned her head and that was when he saw her eyes. By the Gods...

He almost assumed she was a Targaryen, but he knew that many people had violet eyes, not just the dragon lords of old. Her entrancing eyes were framed by thick, long lashes. Her lips were neat and naturally pursed. She met the Lord of Stark, her eyes incredibly guarded. As if they were holding back some important secret, or her pride, from gushing forth like a flood.

"Yes?" She answered simply and warily. His heart went out to her. He couldn't imagine what it would be like if either of his parents died. And if she had to come here instead of staying with other relatives, it would mean they were all also deceased. His family was his lifeline; without them, Robb would just be... Robb. Depressed Robb, without the only people he held dear in the world.

"Your quarters were prepared prior to your arrival. I'm sure one of my boys will gladly show you there." Robb knew his father's plot. He was going to try forge a friendship between her and the children to alleviate her pain. Robb could without a doubt sympathise.

Before Theon could offer and try to get his way with the poor girl, Robb stepped forward with a glance back to his father. "The one across from Sansa's, yes?"

"Yes." Ned Stark confirmed with a nod. Pandora stepped forward somewhat timidly and raised her fixating eyes to him. A kindness in his eyes, Robb extended an arm to her, so she could take it. She hesitantly linked her hand around his arm and he replaced his hand on his hip as he cast a supposedly meaningless glance at Theon. Trust him to take advantage of a grieving girl.

As soon as they entered the keep, she murmured, "I don't need your pity."

"Apologies if you perceive my courtesy that way." He immediately took offence, striving not to let it show in his voice. _What an ungrateful..._ He stopped himself before he could think any further. She was still mourning, or at least it had returned thanks to the fresh reminder of her mother's death. Of course she would reject pity and be a bit snappy at people.

The rest of the walk was in silence. Pandora didn't meet his eyes once, although he found himself casting frequent glances at her. He didn't think she noticed... he hoped. Robb had an inkling of distrust in him about this girl. His sense of caution came to him naturally. But if Father seemed to trust her, then he shouldn't question his judgement.

"We are here, my Lady." Robb spoke once he recognised Sansa's chambers. Across the hall from hers was a closed door, and Robb assumed that was the one.

"I am no Lady." She deflected quietly, but nevertheless she followed him to her room.

Once they entered, she unlinked her hand from his arm. "Thank you, Lord Stark."

"If you are no Lady, then I am no Lord." He let a warm trace of a smile grace his lips. "At least, I am not yet." He took her pause as her not understanding what he meant. "I'm the heir to Winterfell. Robb Stark."

"Apologies for being so rude, before." She murmured, not meeting his eyes.

"I understand. Don't worry." He instantly regretted the words after they left his mouth. Of course he didn't understand, he had never lost either of his parents. Or his siblings, for that matter. Did she even have siblings?

But Pandora said nothing.

"I'll take my leave, then." Robb told her, turning to exit her room. "Oh, and don't let Theon get you alone." He turned over his shoulder to give a last piece of advice before returning to his friends.

**~**

He seemed to underestimate her aptitude for perceiving supposedly hidden details. She noticed his stolen glances at her, and the way he struggled to keep back his affrontedness. But he was not a fool. She could tell that from the moment he extended his arm from her and saved her the trouble from defending herself against that womaniser.

He shut the door behind him as he went, and Kyra promptly fell onto her bed. The tears that were previously threatening to pour out were now completely gone, her eyes barren of all emotion. It was as if the cold of Winterfell had already come to affect her and her emotions. She inwardly damned the fact that her mother's will had been finally found, for it only served to bring back the fresh sorrow she had stowed away so long ago. But it was different than anguish. Now, she just felt empty. She knew no one would bother to try and ease her emptiness. After all, who would desire a Targaryen girl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read this author's note carefully, as it is outlining a few details to avoid any flames in the reviews.
> 
> Please be patient with the revelation of secrets and the character development. If the current details don't make sense, don't push it. I plan to tie up all loose ends in this story.
> 
> As you may have noticed, some of the lore is a bit AU. Like House Tyrnea being in the Stark-Tully-Arryn alliance. Everything else (aside from a few minor details I've added which were in the books) is up to standard. So just giving out a little warning for the lore freaks.
> 
> If a character is OOC, at least give me a chance to explain their divert from their attitude. As the story progresses, you'll see who I'm talking about. But it's not Robb or Kyra (I hope).
> 
> And please give it a chance to develop a bit. The first chapter was terrible, as aforementioned, and I apologise profusely for that.
> 
> Please leave a review! Thanks for reading, lovely :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

On the fourth morning of her stay in Winterfell, Kyra decided it was time to venture beyond the city walls. She knew there would be consequences if it were mistaken that she was escaping, so she chose to speak with Lord Stark beforehand.

After a relatively quiet breakfast, Kyra found Eddard Stark with Lady Catelyn, as expected. "Excuse me, my Lord and Lady," she quietly came to stand before them. "If I may ask something of you."

"What is it?" Lord Stark answered, his gaze falling onto her.

"I would go into the wolfswood today, if that is permitted." Kyra looked up to meet her Lord's eyes.

He looked at Lady Catelyn briefly and a quick, wordless agreement passed between them. "If you are accompanied, then of course."

"It would comfort me if you took Robb and Theon Greyjoy." Lady Catelyn added, a slight grimace coming to her face that Kyra quickly picked up as she mentioned Eddard's bastard, "and perhaps Jon Snow also."

Kyra felt her heart sink. So much for some time alone in the woods. "Oh. Alright."

To her surprise, Lord Stark chuckled. "You wish to go alone. Would I let you if I could. Wildlings and the gods know what else are straying south. If something were to happen..."

"I see. That makes sense." Kyra grudgingly admitted that it was wise to take people with her that knew the land and could probably defend themselves against those sorts. "Very well. My thanks to you." She bowed and hurried off in search of the trio.

**~**

The walls were behind the four when someone finally decided to speak up. "It's a fine day, isn't it?" Theon said cheerfully. "Not too bad at all."

He was right. Kyra had discovered that during the day, while still a nip was in the air, the sun shone brightly with few clouds. Such were the blessings of summer.

"I suppose it is." Kyra agreed quietly. There were no words from the bastard Jon Snow or Robb Stark.

The group fell into silence, and Kyra was glad that Theon Greyjoy had refrained from making obscene comments. For a few moments, she allowed the cold sunlight to restore a bit of life into her.

"How were things back in King's Landing?" Theon seemed very eager to keep up a conversation. "I can't say I've ever been there."

"It's much better here," she admitted. "King's Landing is ridden with poverty and whorehouses and drunkards. I didn't enjoy it there."

"I wouldn't mind the whorehouse bit," he replied with a smirk, earning an eye roll from Robb. Kyra chuckled.

"Of course you don't." This time the silence that followed wasn't so awkward. She found herself enjoying the quiet company of the boys as they strolled through the wolfswood.

The three boys struck up a conversation between themselves which Kyra was happy just listening to, her bow in hand. The trees rustled around her in a wordless symphony, the twittering of birds adding a certain beauty to it. It was then that she realised that perhaps Winterfell was the right place for her.

As they chatted away happily, she heard light footsteps behind them. Footsteps that didn't belong to her, or any animal. Those were definitely human. She immediately grabbed on to the person closest to her, which happened to be Jon Snow, and pulled him to a halt. The other two noticed something was up and turned, a questioning look in their eyes.

The whole forest seemed to come to a halt as realisation happened upon all of them; they weren't alone.

In a swift movement she quietly passed her bow to Jon and her hand slid under her cloak, closing around the hilt of one of her daggers. She listened attentively for a telltale rustle which would signify the person leaping forward, bracing herself for action.

Suddenly their stalker leapt forward and Kyra felt a hand yank her back painfully. She unsheathed her dagger as the unidentified assailant held their own knife up to her throat. She felt the cold steel pressing against her skin, threatening to break it. But she wasn't afraid. She was used to these situations.

"Don't want the throat of the pretty little girl slit, hmm?" The voice was decisively female, but it was broken and rugged. "Hand over yer valuables."

She heard the satisfying shing of steel being unsheathed, but it wouldn't do any good. "Put away the blade, boy." Kyra looked up to see that Robb's sword now lay in his hand. Theon followed suit, nocking an arrow. Jon, however, stood there,  
clutching her bow which was useless to him. He placed it on the floor and drew his own sword.

"I'll slit 'er throat, I will!" At that moment, Kyra forsook the cleanliness of her cloak and drove the dagger back into the woman's upper leg, as deep in as she could push it. It came away covered in blood to the hilt. The woman stumbled back, dropping her knife to clutch the nasty wound as blood poured out of it in a clotted, sluggish waterfall.

Kyra whirled around, yanking the woman to her feet and pressing her own bloodied dagger to the wildling's throat. "I doubt you're alone," she hissed in her ear. "Are you?"

"Y-Yes, I swear it!" The woman was sobbing now, and Kyra almost felt sorry for her. Until she heard the rustling of more people leaping out of the bushes.

"Fucking liar." She pushed the woman to the floor, her dagger sinking into her chest and successfully killing her off as she went down. Kyra leapt back, grabbing an arrow out of her quiver with one hand and plucking her bow off the ground with the other. She drew it back swiftly into the bowstring as Jon and Robb raced forward, their steel bared. Her eyes and arrow locked onto her target as she let loose, the Valyrian steel tipped arrow flying straight into their chest and pushing through their flesh. She winced as the tip appeared at the other side. They fell just as Robb and Jon dispatched the other two men.

"That was interesting." Kyra strolled up to the dead body containing her arrow and mercilessly yanked it out, stepping away to avoid the spray of blood. Next she retrieved her dagger, laying in the body of the woman not far from her second victim.

"You're not too bad a warrior, for a girl," Theon stated. Kyra shrugged.

"Everyone's got to get by somehow." Her life alone had proved challenging. Even more so, had she not been able to defend herself. "Lord Eddard should hear of this. From what I've heard, this isn't the first time wildlings have appeared south, nor will it be the last."

"That's right. Theon, take up behind us please." Robb ordered, and grudgingly Theon complied.

"I'll take up the front." Jon offered, leaving Kyra and Robb to take the middle. The group set off back the way they came, towards Winterfell.

Silence fell over the group as they traipsed back to Winterfell. Kyra dare not let her guard down. As her mother had once told her, even the finest warrior is a dead man the moment he thinks he is safe. Her bow in hand, she kept a sharp eye on her surroundings. It seemed Robb was doing the same, keeping his sword out of its sheath.

She breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she saw the walls of Winterfell looming ahead, the bleak grey walls proving to bring solace when half a week earlier, she thought them to be her doom.

Jon and Theon fell into step with Kyra and Robb when they saw the walls too; they wouldn't have to keep guard if safety was close at hand.

They found Lord Stark in his solar upon their return and was about to give them a greeting with a smile when he noticed the blood adorning their clothes. "What happened out there?" He demanded.

"We came across wildlings," Jon spoke for the group. "One grabbed Pandora and threatened to slit her throat, but she killed her."

"More came out, too. We killed them all quickly, my Lord, don't worry." Theon added.

Lord Eddard clasped his hands, leaning his elbows on his desk. "This is troubling news," he muttered. "Wildling ambushes are becoming more frequent in the wolfswood. They grow bolder by the day."

"The Night's Watch should be quelling these advances before they get this far," Kyra admonished.

"There is so much the men of the Night's Watch can do," Eddard answered. "But your point is valid. Go on, you lot. Get yourselves some lunch, we'll talk later." As the other three bowed, Kyra did the same and followed them out to the dining hall.

There was no one there besides them. Not even the cooks or maids. "I'll go and find us something from the kitchens," Jon offered before disappearing out of the room as quickly as he arrived, leaving Kyra alone with Theon and Robb.

The two boys struck up a conversation and Kyra, for the second time that morning, contently listened. It wasn't long before Jon returned carrying a basket of freshly baked bread. A maid stood behind him with a pot of soup. They placed their bundles on the table and Kyra eagerly grabbed a bowl, the skirmish having stirred up her appetite. 

Once the maid had served up everyone's food, she bowed and hurried out of the dining room. Theon made an amusing toast to not dying, earning a laugh from Kyra and the boys, and all conversation was silenced when they began eagerly digging into their meal.

As Kyra munched her bread, she realised that even though she had barely spoken with them, the boys had helped distract her from her hollowness.

**~**

Pandora was good company. Albeit quiet, she was more amicable than she first appeared to be. Robb found himself enjoying the walk back to Winterfell beside her, silent and cautious as she was.

After their lunch, he retired to his room to change out of his bloodied clothing and just wind down a bit. But not long after, there was a knock at the door.

He sighed and pushed himself off his bed, opening the door. There stood his father. "Robb," he said. "Can I speak to you?"

"Of course." Robb stepped aside to allow his father entry.

"Pandora, how did she fight today?" Ned asked.

"She was useful in the fight," Robb told him honestly. "She was very calm with a knife against her throat." Something he didn't know if he could ever do.

"I see. Thank you." Eddard went to leave, but turned over his shoulder at the last moment. "Oh, and one more thing. Your mother wants to see you about your name day celebration."

"Now?" Robb clarified. Lord Stark nodded before walking away, leaving the door open. Robb, bracing himself for any commands his mother may have for him, and followed his father out of his room.

**~**

Robb's lady mother was in her solar. He knocked on the door and it was promptly opened by Catelyn, who greeted him with a warm smile. "Robb, come in."

He entered her room and stood there while Catelyn sat back down at her table. "I wish for Lady Pandora to be at your arm when you commence the celebrations of your name day."

He narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion. "Why? We barely know the girl."

"Don't give me that look, this is in your best interests as well." Lady Stark's gaze grew sharp for a moment. "She is the only legally named Lady we have on our hands that is the right age for you. Don't you wish to have a Lady by your side?" Robb hated that every word she said made more sense. Mothers were like that. "And also, it will give you a chance to know her better and welcome her into the family a bit more discreetly. She feels an outsider." Catelyn paused. "I can't blame her. I feel the same, sometimes."

"Alright," Robb finally gave his consent. "You have a good point."

"Good." The warm smile was back. "Go on, now. Your brother's been asking after you."

Robb gave a nod and swiftly made his leave. _People asking after me everywhere. It's as if I'm the Lord of Winterfell already._ Robb found Bran exactly where he thought he would be; on the roof. As he tried to coax him down (it wasn't working, Bran wanted to show him how high he could climb), he saw a figure watching out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Pandora, watching Bran ascend with amusement.

The girl was an enigma. But there was something about her that he couldn't put his finger on.

_I guess only time will tell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, that was a terrible ending. I'm bad at ending chapters.
> 
> In case you were wondering, Kyra's name is pronounced Kai-ra.
> 
> Please leave a review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

Kyra held her skirt between clenched fingers as she made her way through Winterfell. The snow was falling today, a light dusting of white covering everything in sight. Midday was nigh, and she was eager to get some hot food to warm her up from the inside. The past two days were easily occupied by some books she'd found at the library, books she'd never seen in the libraries of King's Landing. She enjoyed living here, in the untameable wilderness of the North. She definitely enjoyed it much more than living in the cramped city of King's Landing.

She found herself at the threshold of the hall. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, shaking the snow off her cloak beforehand. It seemed she was late, as the Starks were already sitting at the table and the serving maids were already bringing the dishes out to them. She hurriedly took a seat beside Arya, the youngest girl of the family, and offered an apologetic glance to Eddard and Catelyn.

Today's lunch consisted of some sort of hearty stew and freshly baked bread. Another plus of living up in Winterfell with the nobility was that the food was delectable, always. Even the water tasted better. A bowl of stew was placed in front of her and with a quick word of thanks she dug in.

Inevitably and as always, a lively conversation was struck up between the Starks. Inevitably and as always, Kyra didn't take part. She never had anything to contribute, not to mention she felt like she'd be the wettest of blankets were she to speak. So instead she just ate with manners, something that couldn't be said about the girl sitting next to her. It was endearing, in a strange way. Yet she hid her little smile with a spoonful of stew.

Within a few minutes, the meal was over and everyone got up to leave. As Kyra finished off her last bite of bread roll, Arya turned to her. "What was it like in King's Landing? I've been wondering." The girl suddenly asked. Kyra pushed her chair back and stood, walking alongside her as they exited the hall.

"Cramped. Hot. But also quite bright and exciting at times." She answered. She lowered her voice and leaned in closer to Arya's ear. "I'll tell you a secret; I used to live near a whorehouse and... Let's just say some nights, I didn't get too much sleep because that was all I could hear."

Arya scrunched up her nose and laughed. "Eww. Really?"

Kyra nodded with a small chuckle. "It was pretty disgusting."

"I'll tell you a secret, too. Theon always sneaks out at night time to go to the brothel and he thinks no one notices when he comes back with a girl. Almost every night."

Kyra had to press her lips together in an effort not to laugh. "Gods be good. That's either vile, or kind of sad."

Arya grinned and laughed with a nod. Kyra liked this girl, she decided. Although, Arya's giggling halted abruptly when she heard the septa calling her name and with a grimace, she waved goodbye as she left in the direction of the voice.

Kyra felt a stifling urge to not got back to her book, and as she aimlessly walked through Winterfell she breathed in the brisk air. She'd been cooped up in her room reading all morning. _I'm sure that Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn won't mind..._ She found herself back at her room within a few minutes. She entered and grabbed her bow and quiver, strapping it on after changing into more comfortable and damage resistant gear. With a renewed sense of vigor she pulled her furry cloak on and crept outside the city walls and into the wolfswood.

Her breath billowed in clouds as she manoeuvred her way through the untamed forest. There was a rugged beauty about the way the trees and coarse foliage grew, unable to be conquered by man. Nor creatures such as horses or direwolves sometimes; she'd heard the frightening stories about men and their horses getting trapped in the wild bush and no matter how much they called out, no one heard them, and they slowly starved or froze to death. Yet she still found it more beautiful than anything she'd seen in King's Landing.

She eventually came to a fallen log in a small clearing after about ten minutes of walking, and she was more than glad to sit for a rest. Lowering herself onto the log, she raised her gloved hands to her cold cheeks and held the warmth of her hands against the chilled skin. With a gentle sigh, she gazed around the clearing in wonder. _What beauty this place holds, even if it's bloody cold._

**(A/N: I can't be the only one who still freaks out every time they accidentally rhyme.)**

Her thoughts came to a halt as she heard very faint rustling behind her. _If it's another bloody wildling..._ Her hand moved very slowly to the hilt of her blade as she turned around cautiously, her keen eyes searching the forest surrounding her. It was most likely just some harmless animal, like a rabbit, but it was better to be safe.

Yet as the intruder stepped out, she realised it was indeed not a rabbit and instead, Jon Snow. A relieved smile came over her face as her body relaxed and her hand dropped from her sword. "Thank the gods. I thought it might've been a wilding."

He simply shook his head as he approached, stepping over vines and tree roots on his way. He sat down beside her without a word, staring off into the woods.

"Did you follow me?" Kyra asked, looking at his side profile.

"I saw you leave. Knew that Lord and Lady Stark wouldn't be pleased if they saw you as well, with what happened a few days ago." He answered, returning her gaze through the corner of his eye.

"So you made it look like we were coming out here together." She joined the dots and smiled gratefully. "Thanks." Heavy silence fell. To break the awkward air, she spoke up again. "Do you get along with your siblings?"

"They're... not really my siblings." His voice was quieter than usual.

"You share a father. You have the same blood running through your veins. That makes you family." Kyra told him, clasping her hands and resting them on her thighs.

He was silent for a few moments before shifting his position and answering. "Yes. None of them care that I'm a bastard, even though they're around Lady Catelyn most of the time. She isn't fond of me."

"I noticed." Kyra pressed her lips together, carefully deciding on her next words. "It's not your fault. It's not even a fault to begin with. And besides, the fact that you were born out of wedlock doesn't change who you are as a person. It's not right, to be disliked because your parents weren't married." _I might be a little bit biased, but it's still true._

Jon fully turned his gaze to her, an unusual smile spreading onto his face. Even if it was just a little one. "Thanks. You're just like Robb."

"I hope that's a compliment," she gave a chuckle.

"It is. He's kind to me, even though I don't doubt he's heard the spiel of Lady Catelyn many times."

Kyra gave a slow nod, sighing. "I mean, I don't blame her for being upset. It wouldn't be easy to have the child born of your husband and another woman raised in your own household, yet she's taking it out on you."

"Mmm. There's not much we can do about it, though." Jon stood, turning to her as he adjusted his glove. "You ready to head back?"

"Yeah. I'm ready to sit in front of the fire for the rest of the night, I think." With a chuckle and a nod, Jon agreed, and they walked back to Winterfell in a relatively comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itsa me, the master of shitty endings and tiny ass chapters! Don't worry though, this is just a filler to bump up the length of the story. The next chapter will be out in approximately two minutes from the time of publishing this chapter, so it's gonna be back on track again.
> 
> Please leave a review! Even if this excuse for a chapter doesn't inspire that lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

"We ought to get you into a brothel, Stark." Theon, as always, was harping on about women. "Since your 16th name day is coming up and all. You haven't even bedded a girl yet, and you're almost 16."

"I won't waste money on an empty-hearted whore." Robb stated simply and coldly. "I don't believe in it." Jon gave a silent nod in agreement.

"You're almost a man, by Winterfell standards. It's different here to what it is on the Iron Islands." Theon insisted, leaning back in his chair. "Nevertheless, you need a girl."

"No, I don't." Robb rolled his eyes and cast a side glance at Jon, who seemed to have the same outlook.

"Speaking of your 16th name day," Jon found a chance to change the subject and took it. "When are the preparations starting?"

"Two days, mother said." Robb answered. "It'll be taking three to set up though. I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"16 is the age boys become men and girls become women. Or so I've heard." Theon told the two of them. "Doesn't stop either of them from killing and fucking before that though."

"Would you shut up about bedding girls, Greyjoy?" Jon snapped. He was obviously incredibly pissed off, as he barely ever snapped.

The door swung open, signalling someone's entrance. "Jon, Robb," it was Arya. "Bran's trying to hit the target again. It's not going very well."

"We've been summoned, so it seems." Theon stood up, pushing his chair back. "Come on then, you two." Without another word, the Greyjoy marched past Arya and out of the room.

Robb exchanged a glance with his brother before following the ward of Winterfell out of the room. Arya followed them eagerly down the stairs and into the courtyard where, as mentioned, Bran was attempting to shoot the target.

Almost as soon as the group reached the young boy, Septa Mordane came rushing out into the courtyard. "Arya Stark!" The septa commanded. "Your place is not in the archery range!"

"I hate learning how to paint!" The rebellious 12 year old shouted back, obstinately setting her foot in the snowy courtyard. "I want to stay here with the boys!"

"You are a _girl_ , Arya!" Septa Mordane replied exasperatedly. "Get back into this tower or your father will hear why!"

"He won't care." Arya set her nose in the air and turned about face. "Go away."

The septa was fuming; angry and red faced. Whirling around, she stalked back inside the tower, doubtlessly to find someone to complain to.

Robb loved his little sister's antics. Although she was closer to Jon, he still loved her and her comical acts. A smile on his lips, he turned back to Bran and noticed a figure leaning against the wall.

It was Pandora. Her thick cloak seemed to be doing the trick, as she showed no sign of distaste at the freshly falling snow. Her hood was drawn up around her face, and as she pushed off the wall and approached Bran, he saw that she was looking rather sullen. No wonder. Robb felt his heart reach out in sympathy. He didn't know what it was like to lose a loved one, and even less, he knew that for seven years she'd had no relatives.

The Tyrnea house was virtually lost. One day, Pandora would marry and lose her name. Although, her children would be of Tyrnea blood, he reminded himself. It wouldn't be the same, though; they wouldn't have the name. He was lucky to be in such a prosperous house.

Pandora came to stand behind Bran. "Draw your bow." She told the boy. Hesitantly, he did, an arrow between his fingers. Gently she laid her own finger on the three holding the bow and securing the arrow into place. "The arrow's path won't be affected so much is you let go here at the exact right time. It's hard to get the hang of, though. Unarm yourself." Giving her an inquisitive look, Bran did as she asked. "Now watch." 

Pandora took the short bow and swiftly drew back the arrow. "Very closely, too, or you'll miss it." She let the arrow fly and Robb found himself watching, intrigued. She did let go of the arrow, only a fleeting moment after she let go at the shaft. As promised, it landed perfectly in the bullseye.

Robb was impressed. He leant against a wooden pillar as he watched her hand the bow back to him. "Now you try. Don't fret if you don't get it right." Bran nodded eagerly and took back the bow. It seemed like he was trying very hard to mimic Pandora's actions. He let the arrow fly, and this time it landed only about a metre away from the target. "It's improving. Keep at it. One day, you'll be the finest marksman in the Seven Kingdoms." Pandora reached out and ruffled his hair before turning away.

She had a way with children and with bows. It seemed to Robb that she'd found a distraction. Her face seemed only the tiniest bit lighter, but he was glad nevertheless. If there was one thing he truly disliked more than anything, it was seeing innocent people in pain. At least, she seemed innocent. He was reminded that he knew nothing about her, thanks to her guarded attitude. No one in Winterfell did. It was then that he made a vow. He would make the effort to find out who this girl really was, no matter what it took.

**~**

Kyra felt an ounce pleased. She loved to speak with younger children. Hearing their innocent speech, how they smiled and laughed at almost any silly act. It was refreshing.

She felt a piercing gaze on her and she turned her gaze up to the wall of the armouring stand. There stood Robb Stark. His intense silvery blue eyes were trained on her. Instead of looking away sheepishly at getting caught staring, he kept his gaze on her. He was a strange boy. Almost a man, she'd heard from the harping females in the village. They seemed rather infatuated with him; either his looks or his title, she didn't know.

Robb Stark tipped his head slightly, shifting his weight as he did so. He pushed himself off the pillar and began walking. Towards her. _Oh, seven hells._ She was in no state to be speaking to a boy she would probably have to make a good impression on to do well in Winterfell.

"You're better than I thought." He came to stand in front of her, his significantly taller frame seeming a mountain to her.

"Everyone needs to survive somehow." She answered curtly, then inwardly wincing when she realised it may have been a wrong answer. But Robb simply nodded in agreement.

"Those villagers in King's Landing get by differently than you and I would," he answered. "Safe in their city. I like it better out here, where you need to take care of yourself."

Kyra found herself inwardly agreeing with him. "It's fun that way," she told him. The two had a comfortable moment of silence, simply looking at each other in unvoiced amiability. _He's better than I thought he'd be._

"You are coming to my 16th name day celebration?" He turned and began to walk away, gesturing for her to follow. She quickened her step to match his long and swift stride.

"I'm sure that Lady Catelyn will insist," Kyra said with a small sigh. "I did used to like celebrations a lot. Now, I'm not so sure."

"I understand why." His tone was concerned, if not sorrowful itself. It was a vast difference from his usual tone. "I am truly sorry for your loss." His voice dropped as he came to a halt and turned to her, looking down into her eyes earnestly. "I can't imagine what it would be like. I don't want to."

What was this sudden interest? Kyra thought that she would never get this kind of attention from the Starks, the way she was acting towards them. She smiled sombrely and nodded. "I'm sorry, too. She didn't survive the Battle of the Trident for nothing."

"Your mother the Celesse Tyrnea who stood by my father in that battle." His eyes widened with realisation.

"Who else?" Kyra answered. "She told me the tale." It was probably nothing like the tale everyone knew. A wave of reminiscence crashed upon her as she remembered the sorrowful story that Kyra had to know in order to understand her parentage.

_I got in the way of him,_ she remembered her mother telling him. _We were alone, as well. So he gave me a child unwillingly, my love, if you understand what I mean. He didn't kill me, just left me with a scar._ She showed the scar to Kyra, a long, morbid gash across her lower shoulder, spreading from just above her breast up around to the side of her shoulder. _And a child. That child is you, my flower. You cannot tell anyone, do you understand me?_

Kyra didn't understand. The tales told of her father being intelligent and strong, fair as well. Nothing like the Mad King or a barbarian. The tales didn't say he raped people. But he did. For that, she hated him. Especially for bringing her into the world. The secret bastard of House Tyrnea.

She was wrenched back to the present when Robb told her, "Nevertheless, I want you to come talk me if you feel down. It's not a worthy host who lets their guest stay sorrowful."

She found a trace of an emotionless smirk come to her face. "You don't need to worry about me. As I said before, I don't need your pity."

"It is not pity I'm giving you. It's concern." He told her earnestly.

"They're almost the same." Despite her misgivings, she felt her inner self breathe a sigh of relief. To have someone she could go to. Immediately her rational side refuse profusely. _I cannot go and cry on the shoulder of a Stark. Just keep calm and cordial._ Kyra let the lie fall easily from her lips. "It's very kind of you to offer, however I'm fine. If I do by chance come across any anguish, I'll be sure to come to you."

"Thank you." Robb Stark seemed convinced as he turned back to the path and kept walking. "So, if I may ask, would you accompany me to my name day?"

"I beg your pardon?" Why in the Seven hells was he asking her? "I mean, apologies, but I don't think it's exactly... right. You have plenty of other girls, attractive to boot." She let a flash of her old, sarcastic humour show. "You don't want some girl who looks like a grieving hag to be on your arm. Plus, you don't even know me."

"You are a Lady. Your mother was given that title also after the Battle of the Trident. There are no other Ladies in Winterfell aside from my sisters."

"Oh. Got it. So I'm your first pick because there's no other 'high standing' females here?" She retorted with a small chuckle. She felt herself forgetting her sorrow, for another few moments. It was a beautiful reprieve.

"That's not why." Another voice cut in as they approached the keep. Kyra turned to see the womaniser war dog Winterfell, the Greyjoy. "You're pretty enough. You'll look nice on his arm. Even better on mine."

"Forget it, Greyjoy." She snapped back without missing a beat. "Go try fuck some other girl at Robb's name day."

"Ooh, she's feisty." Theon was not repelled. "I like my women feisty."

Robb sighed. "Ignore him, Lady Pandora."

"I am, don't worry." This acting game was going well. No one was noticing the sadness verging on the edges of her mind. "But I am forbidden to deny the request of the heir to Winterfell, aren't I?" She sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll probably be drunk at the end of it, though."

Robb let out a laugh. She felt a tiny burst of joy at making a Stark laugh. Although, in that, Robb seemed one of the most amiable along with Arya. "15 is too young to drink."

"That is not your concern, nor mine." Kyra answered. "You'll be drinking, too, though. And besides, I'm almost 16 too."

"I know." Robb sighed and nodded. She then realised that Theon was standing there, completely third-wheeling.

"May I take my leave, my Lord?" She asked respectfully, earning an amused glance from Robb.

"I'm no Lord yet. But yes, enjoy yourself." Kyra gave a slight bow and hurried off as she felt the tears welling in her eyes again.

_One week later, 5pm._

"My Lady Pandora," a knock on the door disturbed her from the book she was reading. An unknown voice came from the other side of the door. "Lady Catelyn sent me to help prepare you for the celebrations tonight. They begin in one hour, my Lady."

"Enter." Kyra hurriedly wiped the charcoal stains from her cheeks from her tears and sat up, putting her book aside. "I suppose this is not optional?"

"Lady Catelyn wishes for you to come especially. As does Robb Stark." The door opened and a slight female who looked to be around 17 entered. She had bright chocolate eyes and mousey brown hair, with freckles dotting her face. "My name is Elvira, my Lady."

"Pleasure to meet you." Kyra answered. She clambered out of her bed and walked to the vanity table, sitting at the stool. The small girl shut the door behind her and got to work on doing Kyra's face, darting around her with all kinds of strange products she'd never seen before. _Coloured ointment, coloured powder, coloured... stick? What is this?_ Kyra felt inept and stupid as she marvelled at all the products. Elvira refused to let her see herself in the mirror until she was truly finished, dress and all. She'd even gone to the extent of covering it with a sheet.

Once Elvira was finished spreading the strange ointment, powder and colourful sticks on her (which proved to be used on the lips), she set about working on her hair. Kyra knew her pitch black hair would be easy to work with. It was smooth and only had a few waves in it. Her hair was one of the only thing she liked about herself. Elvira drew it up away from her face, save two thick strands of hair framing her features. Kyra was expecting it to be pulled up into a fancy up do but Elvira left it cascading down her back. She was surprisingly eager to see what the girl had done.

"Next, your dress!" Elvira announced. Throughout the most part of an hour they had spent together, she proved to be a friendly and boisterous little thing, her small body bouncing around happily. "Do you still have those dresses Lady Catelyn sent up yesterday?"

"In the closet," Kyra directed. Elvira flittered over to the wardrobe and pulled the twenty or so dresses out one by one, laying them on the bed.

"Alright." Elvira held up a wine red gown, and Kyra shook her head. She cast it aside and picked up another, this time a green and white dress which she found rather disgusting.  
The rest proved to be unflattering, too.

Most of the dresses later, Elvira held up one that Kyra liked. An intricately designed gown that, while would have been too fancy for her taste, actually seemed quite beautiful to her. The base colour was black and there was a baroque silver lacing lining the dress beautifully. Although it had a corset and push-up bust and was generally too raunchy for her taste, it was the closest she would get.

"I like it." Kyra nodded, gesturing for Elvira to come forward. She stood and allowed the girl to dress her, lacing the corset so tight that she feared she would faint.

"We have five minutes left, my Lady. You must choose some adornments." Elvira ran to the door and picked up a large wooden box that Kyra hadn't realised she had brought in. Elvira came back to her and opened it, revealing several absolutely stunning necklaces, pairs of gloves, bracelets, circlets and anything else you could name. After heavy consideration, Kyra decided on a simple, thin silver circlet that she would probably abandon within the hour, a beautiful ruby and emerald choker and a short pair of black lace gloves. She quickly donned them and Elvira quickly positioned her in front of the mirror and pulled away the curtain.

"Holy shit." Kyra let out an unladylike cuss and stared at herself. "I look... Woah. I look like me, but nothing like me."

A moderate coating of charcoal had been applied to her eyes, completely hiding any puffiness. Her dark circles and any other mars she hadn't noticed (if they even existed) had been concealed and her skin glowed. Her lips shone a natural coral colour; not too red, but not too pale. Her hair had been pulled up, the strands at the side pulled into four braids, two on each side, which came around to the back of her head and secured the pulled back hair in place. The rest of her hair fell down to her hips.

The dress though... That was really the icing on the cake. The corset outlined her skinny waist and the bust pushed up her already slightly ample breasts up and enlarged them. From the slimmest point in the waist, the dress fanned out and fell around her feet. It wasn't a stiff dress. From the waist down it cascaded like a waterfall, the fabric swishing around her as she spun. A comfortable pair of fancy shoes were on her feet, but they were barely noticeable. And the accessories were the candles, if anything.

"You will be the brightest star out of all of them, even the ones in the sky." Elvira told her proudly.

"I can't thank you enough." Kyra told her. Then she realised that her agony had been alleviated slightly. Even for a night.

"You must make Robb Stark's eyes pop out of his skull! He'll be so lucky to have such a beautiful girl by his side!" Elvira gushed happily, flitting around her. "Alright, I'll be off now. You'll be collected in two minutes, my Lady. Have a wonderful time!" And as swiftly as a deer, Elvira gathered her things and dashed out of the room.

_I actually look nice._ Kyra was still struggling to comprehend the fact when the knock came on the door. She inhaled deeply, braced herself and opened the door.

If she didn't say so herself, Robb Stark looked as fine as she did. His curly hair had been left untouched, to her satisfaction. He was wearing some regal garments, leather and everything. They were black and grey, the colours of his house. Kyra realised her dress was close to the colours.

Without hesitation, Robb extended his arm to her just like he did on the first night they met. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." Kyra smiled, not sensing any romance in the statement, and took his arm. As they descended the stairs and moved towards the clamour of the celebrations, she realised that for the first time in months, she felt alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

In the large dining hall, the people of Winterfell were waiting for Robb. As she descended the stairs, her arm linked in Robb's, she braced herself for a long night of drinking and socialising.

As soon as two maids opened the doors for them, the people rose and began to applaud the arrival of Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell on his 16th name day. Kyra felt the traces of a genuine smile threaten to come to her face as her gaze fell upon the many people with smiles of their own on their faces.

Eddard and Catelyn Stark were standing by the door and as soon as Kyra and Robb entered, they came to stand beside their son. "Please, eat, drink and dance to your heart's content!" Lady Catelyn addressed, her light blue eyes swimming with pride for her son.

Drinks were served up to every guest as Robb led Kyra to the head of the table, where they would sit opposite to his parents who were at the other end of the table.

Kyra took her seat beside Robb, glancing at him as she did so. He flashed her a reassuring smile, sensing her social discomfort, as the maids came to stand behind the two.

"Wine or ale for you, my Lord?" They asked Robb.

"Ale will be just fine," he answered, and was promptly served a mug of ale.

"And you, my Lady?"

Kyra's instinctive response was to deflect the status of a Lady, but she remembered that she was on the arm of Robb Stark tonight. She would be seen as a Lady nevertheless. "I think I'll start with some wine. I'll take some ale later, no doubt." She offered the maid a false, yet convincing smile to hide her awkwardness and chronic emptiness.

"As you command." A glass of wine was presented to her and in that moment Kyra decided to pace herself. As the maid slipped away to serve others, Kyra sipped her wine delicately as if it were some nectar to be savoured.

Robb leant over to put his lips to her ear in order to be heard over the clamorous guests. "The food will be served in the next round of drinks. Then outside, in the courtyard, the musicians will start to play. I hope you know how to dance."

"What, you want to dance with me?" Kyra let out a mirthless laugh. "I'm currently drinking away my stiff attitude. Do you think I will dance?"

"You can't deny the heir of Winterfell." Robb told her, his tone seeming innocent. She smirked bitterly, inwardly damning him for using her own words against her.

"Fine, don't be surprised if I escape to go drink more." As expected, the next round of drinks came with food. There were all kinds of delicacies she had never seen before, along with simple foods such as vegetables and meats. She was served accordingly, as the chefs had gotten used to her tastes.

Through the ringing of cutlery against plates and people's chatter over dinner, she heard Robb lean over and say to her, "Look at Theon." She raised her eyes from her plate, scanning the large table until she found him. Some stupid person had seated him directly in front of a group of females, and she could see the twinkle in his eyes that screamed of a predator who had just found his prey. She almost choked on her food, delicately placing her hand over her mouth to hide it.

After swallowing her mouthful, she let her laughter burst forth. "He doesn't stop, does he?"

"I'm glad I warned you, or you'd have been in his bed by now." His laughter joined hers. The ward of Winterfell obviously sensed the twin gazes on him and quickly his gaze darted to his left, straight onto Kyra and Robb. He gave them a suggestive glance, which only served to make them laugh harder. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to his females friends.

"He doesn't understand honour," Robb stated.

Kyra chuckled. "At least we never get bored of his antics."

Kyra finished her meal around the same time as the majority of the table did. While some men who had attended with or without a partner stayed and ordered more drinks, the mass of the people promptly left the dining hall and entered the courtyard.

As Robb stood, offering his arm to Kyra once again, she rolled her eyes and grudgingly took it. He led her out to the courtyard just as the musicians began to play some unknown symphony. It was pretty enough, and easy to dance to.

"Do you know how to dance?" He asked as he laid his hand on her hip in an according manner, taking her hand with his free one.

"Of course I do. My mother was a Lady." She answered, placing her unoccupied hand on his shoulder. Instantly he led, obviously familiar with the style of dance that the song demanded. She simply followed his steps and naturally caught on to the dance easily.

At the back of her mind, the dance steps ticked like a clock in a cycle, subconsciously guiding her.

In order to keep a good conversation, Robb asked, "How are you finding Winterfell?"

"It's colder than King's Landing, but I always thought King's Landing was too hot anyway." Kyra remarked cordially. "I'm finding it better than I thought it would be. You Starks are truly too kind to accept me into your house in this manner."

"Good to hear it." He smiled; obviously pleased with her answer. "Aside from that incident in the wolfswood, everything's going fine."

"Yeah." Kyra nodded, finding a small trace of her own smile coming to her face. They fell into a comfortable silence as the song progressed, and Kyra came to a realisation that she could very well be friends with Robb Stark.

The song ended and as Kyra stepped away to curtesy accordingly to conduct, Robb's grip tightened. "Come on, just one more." He smirked. "You can't deny me, remember?"

Kyra groaned in unwillingness. "Bastard," she muttered as he pulled her back into the conforming stance. He simply chuckled as another song began.

She recognised the tune as one she knew well. With a small, tight smirk, her grip on his shoulder tightened and she forced the lead. He gave her a questioning look as she led the steps and she simply met it with an innocent glance.

"What? Against the rules for a woman to lead?" She didn't wait for an answer as she spun again, her subconscious leading her steps.

"It's not well known, I'll give it that," Robb admitted before another complacent silence fell.

The song ended all too soon and Kyra realised she had enjoyed it. Only a little bit. She released him and bowed. "Thank you for the dance," she followed the according conduct expected following a dance and Robb did the same.

"Well, where are you headed next?" She asked as they walked away from the crowd. "Staying here to dance with some fine maidens, or going to drink some more?" Without waiting for his answer, she added, "I'm going with the latter."

"I might stay here a while longer," he answered, meeting her gaze. "I'll be joining you later, though."

"You have fun then." She offered him a cordial smile before turning and walking towards where the bane of her comprehension lay.

_~_

When Kyra sat down, she felt the eyes of all the companionless and slightly tipsy males in the room fall on her. No doubt she was the only female to return from dancing. She raised her even gaze to the maid. "I'll have a few mugs of ale, please." She asked politely.

The maid hesitantly nodded and hurried off, quickly returning with Kyra's beer. She thanked her and grabbed the first mug, downing it quickly, before her hand reached for the next. She paused and looked up straight into the gaze of a large man who had a mug of his own in his hand. "Think you can hold your drink, girl?" His tone was only slightly slurred. Kyra retracted her arm and fell back into her seat, staring up at him squarely.

"Yes, and what of it?" She answered calmly.

The man simply shot a cocky glance to his male companions and pulled up a seat. "Girl!" He shouted, gesturing for the maid who had just served Kyra. "Get us two trays. And be quick about it."

His harsh gaze came back to Kyra and she began regretting her choices. He was a much bigger and older man. He would definitely hold his liquor better.

But her pride was too important to her to back out now. So when the girl returned, she firmly grabbed her first mug, looked the man in the eye and downed it.

**~**

"Thank you very much for the dance, my Lord!" His third almost insufferably flirty and wanton girl curtsied after their dance, making sure to flash her cleavage before hurrying off.

_I much prefer Pandora's company._ Robb made the decision then to make his way to the dining hall. Turning on his heel and making his way there, avoiding the advances of any more girls, he was completely unprepared for what he would find.

He stepped into the dining hall and his mouth fell agape when he saw the petite girl in her flattering dress, looking as much of a princess as ever, engaged in a deep and seemingly epic drinking contest. The man sitting in front of her was huge and much older. Had she even considered her choices before tackling this? He felt his inner self sigh in exasperation as he watched the mass of men around the group, cheering and yelling things he didn't care to recognise.

He could only see Pandora from behind, but he sure hoped she was in better shape than the man. Red faced with alcohol dribbling down into his beard, he desperately chugged his next mug. Pandora calmly picked up her own and tipped her head back, successfully downing it.

Suddenly, Robb was interested. Would she out-drink this huge and obviously experienced man? The odds were seeming to be in her favour, despite her young age. Inwardly he tried to determine at what age she would have started drinking. When he came at a loss, he set a reminder to ask when she wasn't deeply entrenched in a drinking contest.

He stood behind the crowd of hunched over drunk men, who were as imbued as the two competitors were, and watched Pandora from the side. Her face was tinged with pink, but he didn't let that fool him. He suspected she could hide her inebriation as easily as she could hide other things.

"Are you done yet?" Her voice only held a slight slur, which sounded more like an accent than it did drunken speech.

"Yuh wish I wuz dun, girl!" Her opponent was clearly done; he was barely comprehensible. "Bring uz 'notha round!" At that moment, his head slowly drooped forward until he was facedown in the puddle of alcohol that had either missed his mouth or dribbled from it, or both.

Most of the men cried out in dismay at their lost bets and the minority happily accepted money from their many opposers. Pandora pushed her chair back with a mumbled "Excuse me." to the men behind her and before she could stumble anywhere (namely to the floor), Robb stepped forward and took her by the arm.

"Well done, you drunkard." He rolled his eyes. "Can you walk?"

She simply shrugged. "Maybe." She took a tentative step by herself and looked pleased that while it was a little crooked, it was steady enough. "I think I'll be okay." Nevertheless, Robb stayed close to her side as he indirectly guided her out of the dining hall and into the courtyard.

For the next hour or two, Robb danced with his drunk companion, keeping her in line successfully. She was calmer than most, and more aware than he had first thought. While her dancing step was sloppy, it still proved to be lively and entertaining.

He enjoyed spending time with this Pandora. She was different. No wonder she enjoyed drinking, as it definitely loosened her up and made her forget her anguish. He was glad, although slightly hesitant to allow her bad habit of drinking like a man at her young age.

It was becoming the young hours of the morning, and even Theon had retired to his room. Robb took this as an indicator that it was well past time for him to do the same.

"That was good fun," she told him as he directed her up the staircase towards her room, clearly drunk but not so insanely drunk that she was slurring and stumbling all over the place. "That man I drank with was useless though. Couldn't hold his drink worth a shit."

"How old were you when you started drinking?" Robb asked her. She stopped and heavily considered before nodding and answering.

"12. No, no, 13, I think." She amended quickly, resuming her slightly shaky step. "I'm not an alcoholic, don't worry about that. It's a natural tolerance or something, as well."

He simply nodded as she found her way up the stairs and towards her room. "Oh, that one's mine." She pointed to her room and tiptoed over to it as if she would wake someone. He held in a small huff of laughter and followed her.

"I trust you'll be able to undress yourself alright?" Robb was unwilling to leave her to her own devices in terms of not screwing everything up while preparing for sleep, but what else could he do?

"I think so. You're not Theon, you won't force me to let you stay, right?" She let out a mirthless chuckle. "He's a lecherous douche sometimes."

He nodded, a half smile on his face. "Well, thanks for accompanying me tonight, Lady Pandora. I enjoyed it."

"Me too. Might not remember most of it, but it was still fun." She smiled and turned away. "I'll probably see you past midday tomorrow. Oh, no, it's already tomorrow. Heh."

He didn't reply, he simply turned and left Pandora to her room, an inexplicable smile on his face as he did so.

**~**

As Kyra had expected, she woke around midday. Her head was foggy and it ached terribly. She inwardly damned herself for not considering the consequences.

As she tried to push herself up out of bed and failed miserably, the somewhat vague memories of the night before swam through her head. Dancing with Robb before she got into that drinking contest was as clear as day, but the memories of what came after were a little nebulous.

She remembered laughing and spinning in the courtyard. She remembered feeling... happy. Not so empty. A small smile came to her face as she remembered it. I hope I can cherish that forever. It had not been a mistake to attend after all. She reminded herself to thank Lady Catelyn and Robb for forcing her to go.

Kyra turned onto her side and saw that there was a glass of water and a small piece of parchment laying on her bedside table. Some kind person to do that for her. She as daintily as possible in her hungover state plucked up the piece of paper and squinted to read the fine, neat handwriting.

_You were completely dead to the world when I came in, so I'll assume you are suffering some consequences from last night. However, please make your way to my solar as soon as possible. I wish to speak with you.  
-Catelyn Stark_

Sipping the glass of water left for her, Kyra felt her headache alleviate a tiny bit. It would take almost the whole day for the alcohol to flush out of her system, she suspected.

Nevertheless, she climbed out of bed, groaning as she did so, and pulled on some clean clothes. The dress she had worn at the celebration was still draped over the end of the bed like she'd left it. _I like that dress. I hope I can keep it._

Lady Catelyn's solar was just above Kyra's own room. So she climbed the stairs slowly, making sure to nurse her sorry state as she did so. As expected, Catelyn was sitting out on the balcony with Eddard. Upon Kyra's entrance, they halted their conversation and turned to her.

Suddenly she felt a bit apprehensive. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked cautiously out of instinct. Catelyn laughed, shaking her head.

"Quite the opposite." The auburn haired woman smiled warmly. "Upon your arrival, you remember saying you wished to compensate for your stay somehow?"

"Yes, I still do." Kyra still failed to see what her purpose was.

Catelyn turned to her husband and murmured something to him. Lord Stark nodded and Catelyn stood. "Walk with me, Pandora."

She inwardly groaned. More walking? Regardless, she fell into step with Lady Catelyn as she exited the room.

It was a few minutes until she spoke. "I understand your feelings," Catelyn said. "For years, I did not feel welcome here in Winterfell, even though I bore children for her Lord, let alone birthed the heir to the castle. Even now, I still feel that sometimes." She stopped and turned to Kyra, looking her sincerely in the eye. "I would like to personally extend an invitation into the family, as one of our own."

It took a few moments for the information to render in Kyra's mind, shock slowly registering. "My Lady... With all due respect, I am no Stark."

"You don't have to be. Theon is our ward, he is a part of the family but he is not a Stark." She reassured. "It would please Ned and I were you to assist in training our youngest sons, and don't let the Septa hear me tell you this, but Arya as well, and to accompany us on any journeys or matters we may need to attend to. And to fight by our side. Robb informed Ned of your skill, and we believe it would be a waste to abandon it."

"I am flattered, my Lady..." Despite Kyra's hangover and her chronic distrustfulness, she saw the realness in Catelyn's eyes. She was serious. "Would the family accept me?"

"I don't think you have noticed how they cherish you already. Bran thinks you are simply wonderful, and Robb, Theon and Jon Snow," again, there was a tiny and almost undetectable grimace, "are quite comfortable in your company. As for Sansa and Arya, they haven't gotten the chance to speak with you yet and I don't doubt they wish to."

"In that case..." Kyra felt an overwhelming sense of joy. These people wanted her in their family. For the first time in seven years, she would have one. "I accept. Not that I could say no, I imagine."

"You imagined correctly." Catelyn was smiling as warmly as Kyra felt. "Now, you probably are feeling quite under the weather. Shall I leave you to it?"

"If you wouldn't mind, my Lady." Kyra dipped her head, meekly fending off a surging migraine.

"Feel better soon, Pandora." At the reminder of her fake name, as Kyra turned and made her leave, she was hit with a wave of guilt. She knew she should tell them her identity, now that she was one of them. _I can trust them now._ But there was a sense of doubt.

_Can I **really** trust them?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that the quick development of friendship between Kyra and Robb isn't making the romance seem rushed. I'm trying to make it seem like it's only friendship at this point. I hope that's how it seems to you!
> 
> Please leave a review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

"No, no, not like that!" Kyra admonished, caressing her temples exasperatedly. "You know how to, just do it."

"It's harder than it looks," Bran fended off, frowning and readjusting his grip on the bow.

"I know it's difficult, but it's the proper way to hold it. You'll get used to it, don't worry." Kyra came to stand a fair distance behind the boy. "Now shoot."

Bran released the arrow and while it didn't hit the target, it was close. "I'm still not hitting the target!" He huffed. "Why isn't anything you're telling me helping?"

"Because all things take time. Trust me, I was worse when I was your age." It wasn't true, but to soothe the boy's pride she would have to tell him that.

"Pandora!" A familiar voice from behind her called. Kyra spun around as Bran grudgingly nocked another arrow, seeing Robb come into the inner ward. "Feeling better?"

He was referring to the hangover she had been suffering the day before. With a small chuckle, she nodded.

"Good, because the septa has insisted you sit on today's lessons." Kyra gaped, then grimaced in hesitancy. Robb pressed his lips together, obviously understanding her reluctance.

"Alright." She sighed, brushing past Robb to unstring her bow and leave it there for afterwards. "Keep practicing, Bran."

"Yeah." Bran answered. Kyra heard footsteps as Robb walked up to Bran, presumably to assist him in his practice. Then, however grudgingly, Kyra made her way to the Septa's tower.

 **~** ~

Kyra found Robb, Jon and Theon in the other ward, where the swordplay dummies were. Jon and Robb were going at each other with the blunted steel swords while Theon watched, leaning against a fence. Silently Kyra crept up and stood behind Theon, watching the brothers' duel wordlessly.

"Are you any good with a sword, Greyjoy?" She suddenly asked monotonously. The ward jumped, his head snapping around to see her there.

He quickly regained his composure and smirked. "Which one?" Kyra rolled her eyes with a laugh.

"The one you actually have," she retorted with a glance to the sword in its sheath at his hip. The sassy remark caught Robb and Jon's attention and they started laughing as they circled each other.

"How would you know that, Milady?" Theon shot back. Kyra simply met his gaze squarely and rose her eyebrow in a wordless response.

She turned her gaze back to Robb and Jon, watching their practice duel with a measured gaze. For a moment her eyes locked onto Robb's and he flashed her a small, confident smile before his eyes returned to the battle.

"They're taking it very seriously," she mused.

"Yes, they like to keep their skills sharp." Theon replied. Kyra pushed off the fence, walking up to the weaponry bench to examine the different blunted weapons. Swords, axes, daggers. She could use all quite adeptly, but she definitely preferred her daggers. She unsheathed her fully sharpened Valyrian steel daggers and placed them to the side of the bench, slipping the risk-free daggers into her sheaths.

When she turned back, she saw that Robb had only just defeated Jon. The dejected bastard placed his sword back on the bench. "I missed what happened," Kyra stated.

Jon, obviously, ignored the statement and went to stand beside Theon. "He made a small mistake, and I managed to beat him because of it." Robb filled her in and noticed the daggers in her sheaths. "You want to go, too?"

"Perhaps." A small smirk began to spread across her lips. "Don't cry when I beat you."

"I don't think I'll be the one getting beat."

Kyra readied her daggers as Robb readied his sword. Theon couldn't resist calling out a vulgar remark about stabbing her with his other sword, which earned a withering look from Jon. Kyra chose to ignore the remark, preparing herself for the duel.

Robb lunged for her and she quickly dodged. He made his blows blatant before they happened, which would inevitably be his downfall. Kyra feinted right, then slashed to the left. Robb got a small blow on his arm as his quick reflexes only just saved him. He hefted his sword and sliced in an arc. Kyra ducked, the blow missing her by miles. She danced back, a challenging smirk on her face.

"Tired yet?" She taunted, spinning her dagger between the fingers on her right hand.

"You wish," he retorted as he launched himself at her. It was obvious that he was going to jab left, so she dodged right and spun past him, brushing her dagger lightly across his side. He huffed in irritation and spun to face her. Kyra felt a surge of confidence. The way this was going, things were in her favour.

Kyra decided to take the lead. She whirled forward, daggers flashing. Robb only just recoiled backwards in time. She daintily stepped back and readied herself for his next blow. His steely blue eyes fell on her right side and she smirked. His blatant way of revealing where he would strike was her advantage.

As she went to fall to the left, he suddenly changed his direction. Her eyes widened as a flash of horror struck her with realisation. She came to a halt as the tip of his blade brushed against her stomach. "I win." He smirked.

Kyra's eyes narrowed in a good natured huff. "No fair, you cheated." She marched back to the weaponry table and retrieved her own daggers after putting the other two back.

"That wasn't cheating. You tried to trick me just as much." Robb came and stood beside her, replacing his killing-proof sword. "Good fight, though."

"Mm." Kyra mumbled as a reply and turned away. "I'm going to the inner ward. You three joining me?"

Without waiting for an answer, she stalked off, her bow in her hand. Within moments, she heard the telltale thumping of boots on the stone pavement as they followed.

As soon as they arrived, Kyra saw Bran attempting at the target again. At their entrance, he turned and smiled at the four of them. "Hello!" He said cheerfully.

"How long ago did you get here?" She asked as Theon disappeared off somewhere to a location not of her concern.

"Just now. Watch, I'm hitting closer to the target now." Robb and Jon stood beside him as Kyra leant against the pillars, her eyes trained on the target.

Bran pulled an arrow back into the bowstring and let fly. It went dead straight into the wood of the barrel beside it. Robb cleverly hid his smirk as Bran frowned and absently kicked a stone on the floor, obviously displeased with his result.

Jon came and planted his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Go on. Father's watching." The two turned their gaze up to the balcony overlooking the archery range, and Kyra followed their gaze to see Eddard and Catelyn Stark watching, their eyes reassuring the boy. "And your mother."

Bran gave a small, self conscious nod and turned back, focusing his eyes on the target intently as he nocked another arrow. Kyra simply watched, silently taking in how the boy shot.

He let it fly and missed terribly, the arrow flying into the woods behind. Jon began to laugh hysterically, while Robb had the decency to turn away to hide his veiled laughter. Rickon, even though he couldn't hope to be as good as Bran at his age, giggled. Kyra smirked, remembering the time when she was that terrible. "Have you forgotten what I told you?" She called to him in good spirits.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Ned Stark's cutting admonishment came clear as day through the courtyard. "Keep practicing, Bran."

When Bran turned his head towards the floor to avoid his father's gaze, he furthered his assurance. "Go on."

Bran picked up his bow again, grabbing an arrow. "Don't think too much, Bran."

"Relax your bow arm," Robb told him as he drew the arrow back.

"Don't forget to hold it correctly, too." Kyra added, causing him to sheepishly fix his hold, caught out.

Just as Kyra saw his gaze lock onto the bullseye, another arrow went flying past her from behind. She jumped slightly, her head snapping around to the marksman, or markswoman, who it had came from.

Arya had snuck out of her classes, so it seemed, as she stood there, a bow in her hand. She gave a small grin and bowed as the three boys turned and stared at her. With a giggle she realised Bran was coming after her as he abandoned his bow and went dashing towards the fence.

Robb and Jon started laughing as Bran vaulted over the wood, chasing after her. Kyra found herself joining their amused laughter as she watched the children chase each other around the adults in the other half of the courtyard.

She pushed herself off the pillar, coming to stand from her leaning position, and walked over to Robb and Jon. "Keeps forgetting what I'm telling him," she remarked in mock exasperation.

"Either that, or you're not teaching him well." Robb joked in good nature.

Just as Kyra opened her mouth to retort, heavy footsteps signalled someone's arrival. She turned to see Theon, who had slunk back from wherever he'd disappeared off to.

"There's been a deserter from the Night's Watch," he alerted us. "You're coming to see his sentence."

It was well known that the sentence for desertion was death. Kyra slowly nodded, turning back to the boys expectantly. They all shared a glance and nodded also.

"Bran will be coming too."

"He's too young," Robb's brows furrowed, his amused mood gone at this sudden seriousness.

"We can't question Lord Stark. Get your horses saddled, we leave as soon as possible."

With that he turned and marched off to find Bran, his coat flying behind him. Kyra sighed softly, sharing a short glance with Robb and made for the stables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boring, short filler chapter, slightly terrible ending. Sorry about the quality of the writing, I'm not feeling too well at the moment. You know what sickness does to writing skill. If you don't, it pretty much renders it non-existent.
> 
> This story will start to correspond with the beginning of Season 1 starting from now.
> 
> Please leave a review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

Kyra noticed the breeze was colder than usual as she saddled up her horse, a beautiful, docile black mare. Taking the lead in her hands gently, she remembered all the times her and her mother used to ride together. She inwardly braced herself for the usual wave of empty sadness that followed thoughts about her mother, but it never came. Only a trickle of misery pierced her heart.

"Ready to go?" Robb asked, swinging up onto his horse. She eyed her horse and mentally compared its size with Robb's. _By the Gods, I'll never be able to get up on her._

"Yes." Regardless, Kyra hid her qualms and fisted her horse's mane. She heard a barely stifled snicker behind her and her head snapped around to face Robb again. Theon was the source of the sniggering and she shot him a glare.

"Need a leg up?" While there was a slight tinge of amusement in Robb's tone, he was empathetic enough.

"No." Her pride was too important. She heaved herself up, struggling in vain to swing her other leg onto the saddle. When she heard the telltale brushing of leather against leather as he slid off his saddle, she turned her head and frowned over her shoulder at him "I said, _no._ I'll be fine." She finally pushed up onto the saddle and her patient horse simply nickered.

Robb raised his eyebrow at her, a half smile on his face and turned away to remount his horse.

Within the minute, the group was away. With Ned Stark at the head, they rode off out of the gates of Winterfell. Across the rolling plains directly outside the castle they rode, their horses scaling the easy terrain with repose.

After about a half hour's ride, they came to a wooden chopping block surrounded by a circle of small stone formations. When the group pulled their horses to a halt, she followed suit and much easier than she mounted, she swung off the horse and hit the grass with a thump.

The breeze definitely was colder, she realised, pulling her furry cloak around her tighter. Over the hill where the chopping block was, she spotted two guards dragging a man between them. No doubt he was the deserter.

Robb, Jon and Theon began the climb up the hill while Bran tarried behind a little longer, a certain doleful conflict in his eyes.

She ruffled his hair, sensing his discomfort. "Don't worry." She felt at a loss for the right words to say, so she just caressed his back and began to gently push him towards the block.

As the guards pulled the deserter up the hill, she heard his deranged mutters. She couldn't identify the words, though. She came and stood on the other side of Robb, watching the boy in his tattered black garb with a slight sense of reproachfulness. Then she heard it.

"White Walkers... White Walkers... I saw them." The boy was muttering. His eyes were wide and staring at the ground, as if there was something absolutely horrifying there. Her reproachfulness turned to apprehension. _By the Gods, this man is mad._

The guards pulled him to a halt before Lord Stark. Finally the deserter lifted his eyes.

"I know my broke my oath," he said, only a slight shake in his voice. "And I know I'm a deserter. I should've gone back to the Wall, 'n warn them, but..." He paused, meeting Eddard Stark's gaze. "I saw what I saw. I saw the White Walkers. People need to know." Lord Stark was watching the boy with a guarded gaze, if not slightly empathetic. "If you get word to my family..." The deserter continued. "Tell 'em I'm a coward. Tell 'em I'm sorry." Kyra cast a quick glance to Robb. His gaze as steely as ever, his eyes were locked on his father and the deserter.

Lord Stark gave a small nod and the guards pushed the boy to the ground. A look of horror and desolation flashed through his eyes, as if a tiny part of him expected he'd be set free. Lord Stark pulled his collosal greatsword out of it's direwolf shaped sheath held by Theon. He pushed the tip to the ground and began muttering the traditional, monotonous words; "In the name of Robert, of the House Baratheon, first of his name..."

She found her focus being drawn away by Jon warning Bran. "Don't look away," Jon told him. Kyra turned to gaze at him over her shoulder. His brown eyes were focused on his father. "Father will know if you do."

"... Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm," she turned back to Eddard. "I, Eddard, of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die." Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Bran as Lord Stark hefted his mighty sword up and swung it down in an arc, lopping the poor mad boy's head off. Bran almost jumped, his mouth twisting slightly in horror.

The plains were as silent as a crypt as the blood poured out of the stump which used to be the deserter's head. Kyra watched the severed arteries and bone without revulsion. Only a flash of empathy for the poor boy. He had a family who would weep over his death. He was a child, like Bran, once.

"You did well." Jon murmured to Bran. The ten year old's eyes were emotionless, save for a tinge of sadness. Jon Snow turned to make his way back to his horse. Out of the corner of her eye, Kyra saw Robb turn. Her eyes training on him, he gently caressed Bran's back, leading his younger brother after Jon. Inhaling deeply, Kyra followed, her hands clenched into fists.

She mounted her horse, her eyes locked on the horizon. She heard a low voice from beside her. "You didn't flinch." Robb said, mounting his horse with ease.

"Is it against the law for a female not faint at the sight of blood?" She answered, her quiet voice sounding like thunder across the silent plains.

"No. I admire that you were strong." He told her honestly, meeting her eyes with a small, somewhat empty smile. An unspoken understanding passed between the two; they had just watched an innocent person die because of his fears. While the death sentence for desertion was understandable by most cases, he was just a boy. And though she didn't approve of his escape, it didn't change that fact.

They rode back a different way than which they came by. The easy plains were their only path for the first half of the journey, but then they came to a forest. Riding through the thick copse would prove difficult. The group rode on horseback for as long as possible, silent as death, until it came to the end of the path. Kyra swung off her horse and gently took her by the reins, leading her along the path.

Soon came the stench of death, making her mare toss her head. Luckily she didn't rear or buck; she never did. But it certainly did make the air even more tense beyond previous measure, as a thick, palpable sense of foreboding hung in the air like heavy fog.

First they came across a dead stag. Maggots crawled all over its corpse, but it hadn't been eaten yet. It hadn't been dead long. "Mountain lions?" Theon suggested as the cause of its death.

But Lord Stark shook his head. "No mountain lions in these woods." They continued on foot past the dead deer. It hadn't been long before the strong smell returned.

The terrain turned jagged as they had to manouver themselves along grassy overhangs. They had left their horses with the guardsmen to take a safer route back to Winterfell. Kyra's sharp eyesight spotted something furry. Something dead. She squinted her eyes, peering closer. "Lord Stark, look." She alerted. He followed her gaze and his eyes widened upon what he found.

"What is it?" Robb asked, turning his narrowed gaze to Kyra. She simply shrugged and continued following Eddard. It was then that she noticed mini, furry, non-dead things squirming around the corpse. She stepped closer, standing behind Bran to peer at the bloodied creature.

It appeared to be a wolf of some kind, but it was much larger. The little critters crawling around were the pups. They were adorable, for baby wolves (and baby wolves could get pretty damn cute). It seemed that the Northerners, save Theon, recognised the wolf immediately though, as their eyes went wide with alarm.

"It's a freak," the Greyjoy exclaimed.

"It's a direwolf," Ned Stark corrected, his tone dark. He raised his gaze up to the party, who were watching with guarded eyes. "Tough old beast." He yanked the antler lodged into its dead flesh out, which suggested it had killed the stag but suffered wounds, then died giving birth, Kyra gathered.

"There are no direwolves south of the Wall," Robb mused, his voice tinged with apprehension. If such a beast had come south, what if more did?

"There are five," Jon affirmed, referring to the pups. His hands closed around one of the small, fluffy pups and he gently lifted it and offered it to Bran. "Want to hold it?"

Bran, with very well masked delight, took the direwolf pup from Jon and held it close to his chest. Kyra saw that a bond had already been formed, but doubtless, Eddard would order them to be killed. She frowned, aware that it was a precaution, but Bran had seen enough death for one day.

"Where will they go? Their mother's dead." Bran's innocent voice cut in, clutching the puppy to his chest protectively.

"They don't belong down here," Ser Rodrik asserted, obviously averse to any ideas of letting them live.

"Better a quick death." As expected, Lord Stark gave the order and Kyra's eyes widened marginally as she watched, slightly horrified. "They won't last without their mother."

Theon drew his dagger, reaching out and unceremoniously wrenching the puppy from Bran's grasp by his scruff. "Right, give it here."

"No!" Bran cried in vain, his eyes going wide with terror for his new friend.

Robb, who had been silent for most of the ordeal, suddenly whirred to life. "Put away your blade," he ordered Theon, his voice tinged with malice.

"I take orders from your father, not you." Obviously he was spurned by the slight nastiness in Robb's voice and his attempt to order him around, Theon retaliated, not letting up.

Bran whirled around to face Ned. "Please, father!"

Eddard shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Bran." His voice held sympathy for his son, and at the refusal, Bran's face fell and Kyra's heart reached out for him.

"Lord Stark," Jon Snow interuppted, turning to his father. "There are five pups, one for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your house. You were meant to have them."

The group fell silent save for the squealing of the terrified pup as all eyes fell on Ned Stark. Kyra watched him expectantly, inwardly praying that he would say yes.

Eddard measured the group with a single sweep of his gaze, finally wording out his decision. "You will train them yourselves, you will feed them yourselves, and if they die, you'll bury them yourselves." With that he sheathed his sword and turned back to the path.

Kyra, a small, unmasked smile on her face, stepped forward to assist carrying the puppies back, relishing this small joy. Bran took his pup back, and it snuggled to his chest happily. Jon passed two to Robb. He took them and as Kyra approached, he passed one to her and the other to Theon.

"What about you?" Bran asked quietly, noticing that there were only enough for the trueborn children to have one.

Hesitantly Jon answered. "I'm not a Stark." He gestured for Bran to keep walking. "Get on."

Kyra turned and walked in front of Bran, while Jon took up behind. Suddenly he stopped, and she turned to see why.

He reached down into a hollow tree stump. Theon, Robb and Bran stopped also to gaze at Jon.

"What is it?" Robb asked, his eyes following Jon's hand. He pulled a pure white direwolf pup out of the stump, holding him by his scruff.

"The runt of the litter!" Theon exclaimed. "That one's yours, Snow." Jon met his gaze, holding it for a few moments before looking back at the pup. It was then that Kyra noticed it's blood red eyes.

"How pretty," she mused. "Doesn't look like a runt."

He simply shrugged and took the pup in his arms as they made their way back to the castle.

**~**

"What'll you call them?" Kyra asked, sitting down beside Jon and Robb after they returned to Winterfell.

"I'm not sure yet," Robb told her, his direwolf sitting in his lap. He gazed down at it as if it were his own child.

There were a few dead silent moments before Jon answered. "Ghost," he said simply.

"It's a fitting name," she answered with a nod. "They're beautiful creatures. Intriguing, I think. So beautiful, yet so powerful."

"Not at this age," Jon said.

"When they grow up, you're going to have a valuable ally at your side." She sighed in envy.

"You want one too?" Robb smirked. "Sorry, I'm not willing to share mine." She elbowed him good naturedly and sat back in her seat.

"I wonder if that deserter really did see the White Walkers?" Kyra wondered aloud, staring at the table. She could draw them up in her head, from the children's stories; pure white, reeking of death with glowing blue eyes. Merciless and just _cold_ , colder than ice. But children's stories were as reliable as a sellsword; you couldn't trust them as far as your arm could reach.

"White Walkers have been gone for hundreds of years." Robb told her as if he were rebuking a child. "They simply don't exist."

"Maybe they do. Have you been past the Wall?" She challenged, looking him straight in the eye.

"No, but others have." He retorted, meeting her gaze squarely.

"What about the Land of Always Winter? No one's been there, its not even mapped." Kyra rolled her eyes. "This is a stupid thing to argue about. My point is, neither of us know and I hope we never do. Some things are meant to stay unknown."

Jon simply nodded in agreement, while Robb tore his gaze away, unable to fire back sufficiently.

"I'm going to bed." Kyra decided aloud, her eyes falling on the rising moon outside. "Good night." She said curtly, climbing to her feet and striding away. She climbed up the stairs and entered her room. The journey had worn her out slightly, and as soon as she changed into her nightclothes and climbed into bed, she could feel sleep looming until it swallowed her whole.

**~**

When Robb woke the next morning, he realised he had a name.

"Grey Wind," he murmured to himself as his eyes fell on the white and gray pup at his feet. The little direwolf lifted his eyes and met Robb's silently. "Come on then, Grey Wind." The puppy sat there dumbly while Robb climbed out of bed, pulling on his black jerkin and furry cloak. Then it seemed to register that he was leaving, and it quickly stumbled after him.

He carried the defenseless pup down the stairs, taking pity on his short stumpy legs, but allowed him to walk the rest of the way to the dining hall.

It seemed that his parents had already had breakfast, along with Rickon, Arya and Sansa, as only Bran, Pandora, Jon and Theon were present.

"Glad to see you've joined us." The short dispute from the day before had obviously been forgotten as Theon greeted him as normal. He gave a nod of greeting to the members of the table before sitting and grabbing himself a plate.

"Have you got his name yet, Robb?" Bran asked him.

"Yes. Grey Wind," he glanced down at the pup sitting at his feet.

"I haven't gotten a name for mine, yet." Bran said dejectedly.

"Don't rush it, the perfect name will come to you in time." Pandora reassured him, earning a smile from the boy.

The table fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their breakfast. Bran didn't bother to wait for Robb as he raced off, his pup teetering after him, probably to the archery range.

"I say we go hunting today," Robb suggested between mouthfuls.

"What on earth for?" Theon inquired, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

"For the pups," he answered. "Father said we'd feed them ourselves."

"What about the meat from the kitchens? Surely for now we can feed them off the scraps," the Greyjoy suggested. Robb shook his head, finishing his plate and pushing it forward.

"No, I'd rather hunt for Grey Wind myself." He glanced at Jon as he pushed his chair back and stood. "You in?"

Jon simply nodded, getting up also. Pandora stood after, shrugging. "Eh, why the hell not?" She stretched, her bones cracking.

Theon rolled his eyes, knowing he'd get roped into it somehow, and just went along with them as they exited the dining hall.

Ten minutes later, they were all dressed in their hunting leathers and equipped accordingly with their weapons. Pandora didn't bother to mask her weapons beneath her cloak today, and instead wore them blatantly. The group unanimously voted on leaving the wolves behind and walking to the wolfswood as opposed to riding.

They set out on foot, a cheery conversation budding between Robb, Theon and Jon (more or less, Jon doesn't get cheery very much), while Pandora stayed silent as usual. Robb hadn't ever realised how much he treasured having a quiet companion until she began tagging along on their activities and now, even leading some of them. It always seemed to have something missing if she wasn't there when Robb went out riding with Bran and Jon.

Eventually the conversation faded and a comfortable silence fell. Then Pandora spoke up, her voice sounding unfamiliar when it was only her speaking in this silent wood.

"The weather's getting colder," she remarked. Robb raised his gaze to the canopies of the trees, her statement proving true.

"Perhaps winter is coming," Theon suggested, quoting the famously ominous words of House Stark.

"We'd better hope not," Robb found the statement slightly eerie. The thought of the so-claimed terrible, condemning winter returning was not one he could enjoy. It was chilly enough up North; the prospect of it getting colder? Not something he was looking forward to, although it was inevitable that winter would come some day in his life.

"Mm." Jon mumbled in agreement with a nod.

As the group hunted in good spirits, Robb tried to keep Theon's statement off his mind. But it was foreboding. He was told that winter was a disastrous and gruesome time, wrought with death and despair. He didn't want to recall the old stories that Old Nan told him.

_I am a Stark of Winterfell._ He reminded himself resolutely. _I am not frightened by children's tales. I am **not** frightened by winter._

**~**

Grey Wind was happy to see the fresh meat that had been brought back for him. The group decided that two rabbits and a deer would be enough to sate the hungry little pups until their next hunt. As Robb sat and watched his direwolf tear into the raw flesh along with Bran's unnamed direwolf, Rickon's direwolf Shaggydog, Arya's direwolf Nymeria, Sansa's direwolf Lady and Ghost, he heard heavy footsteps fall as someone approached.

Robb turned and looked over his shoulder at his father. "Father." He greeted.

Eddard Stark did not return the greeting. Robb's eyes fell on a rolled up piece of parchment in his hand that he was only just managing not to crumple between his fingers. "What happened?" He realised that something must have gone terrible wrong, if it were to make his father have that look in his eyes. That look of distant woe.

"Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, is dead." Lord Stark slowly worded out. Robb's jaw went slack. He knew of the friendship his father had shared with the late Hand. "And the King rides for Winterfell, with the Queen and her family."

Robb wasn't sure which one was worse, much to his chagrin.

"I'm sorry for your loss, father." Robb finally said, clamping his hand onto his father's shoulder and looking him in the eye.

Ned didn't meet his eyes. Instead he just nodded and turned away. "Go see your mother. She has tasks for you in order to prepare for their arrival."

And Robb was left alone. Or so he thought. He sighed, knowing who was there. "Pandora," he called, aware of her habit to stick to shadows. Slowly and hesitantly she stepped out from behind a pillar.

"The King is coming to Winterfell?" She asked. He couldn't help but realise that for once, she hadn't disguised her true emotions as much as she liked to think she had.

_Is that... fear?_ "Are you afraid of the King?" He inquired, examining her eyes. The pools of violet were stony cold; she had realised he knew.

"Of course not. Don't be stupid." She scoffed and spun around, quickly marching away.

As he watched her leave, his mind stuck on the testy subject. _She's hiding something, I know it... And it has something very big to do with our King._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd make myself have a good chuckle by throwing a good cliche or two in there. Enjoy it :')
> 
> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

King Robert and his family were almost upon Winterfell. Kyra had been counting down the very short number of days, as by the time the raven reached Eddard Stark announcing their journey, they were already halfway down the kingsroad.

Robb, Jon and Theon had been pulled away to get their hair cut and beards shaved, no doubt to impress the Queen. It was told that she had high standards. _Was that why she married King Robert?_ She stifled a chuckle as the thought crossed her mind. _Oh, yes, he's definitely meeting all of her high standards._ Her sarcastic humour didn't fail to amuse her as she assisted in making last minute embellishments in the great hall for guests. Hoisting up the chandeliers that had gone long without use, putting tablecloths on the long, wooden tables, finishing decorating the guest rooms accordingly. She found the tasks mundane, but necessary.

"Lady Pandora!" A familiar voice called to her over the clamour. She looked up to see Lady Catelyn waving her over. She mumbled a small apology and darted around the people towards her.

"Yes, my Lady?" She answered Catelyn's summons, brushing the dust off her hands.

"Would you mind getting your hair trimmed? We don't want to look the part of rugged Northerners, if we can help it." Catelyn chuckled.

"That's no problem at all. Where's Elvira?" When Kyra asked after her favourite maid and saw Catelyn's face fall, she assumed the worst. "Oh... Oh no... I'm going to go get my hair trimmed by men, aren't I?"

"Yes. My deepest apologies. All the maids are tending to the rooms of the Queen's family, which are of the utmost necessity. Keep a knife on you when you go over." Kyra wasn't sure if she was joking or not. But there was no backing out now.

Kyra did as she asked, changing into her smallclothes and donning a bathrobe beneath her hooded cloak. Just in case, she kept a dagger on her. She had learned that it was safer to be paranoid than not. As she somewhat misguidedly directed herself towards the place designated for temporary haircutting and such, she tightened her cloak. How mortifying. She wouldn't blush. In fact, she forbade herself from it.

As she approached the small shed-looking building with a curtain for a door, she heard a sickeningly familiar voice. "Go on, Tommy, shear him good; he's never met a girl he likes better than his own hair." Another familiar voice joined his in laughter as she came to a halt.

Seven hells, it was Robb and Theon. They hadn't even left yet.

She inwardly grimaced, but she couldn't back out now of all times. She bit the inside of her cheek and pushed inside through the curtain. At her entrance, Robb's eyes fell on her. He was facing her directly, meaning that she could've ever hoped to slip in undetected. His brows furrowed as she entered, refusing to meet his gaze.

She refused to even look at him, in his half naked state. Only a pair of trousers covered his body, and Theon and Jon's for that matter. She felt his burning blue gaze follow her as she made her escape behind the other curtain, the one behind the man she presumed was Tommy, and scowled sourly as she slipped out of her cloak and into her bare bathrobe.

Refusing to let go of the cloak and leave it there on the most likely filthy anything in that room, she meekly slunk back out to stand on the other side of Tommy, furthest away from Robb and Theon. There was that burning gaze on her again. She evaded his gaze which was evidently trying to sought hers out and stared at the floor.

Finally someone spoke up. "Why're you in here, Pandora?" Robb asked, his voice quiet.

"No one else can trim my hair," she answered curtly. _Man up, damn it!_ She cursed herself mentally. _They're just a teenage boys, and your friends for that matter!_ In order to challenge herself, she raised her gaze to meet his. It wasn't scouring her body, as most male men would. The robe didn't leave much to the imagination. It was too small for her, and hugged her body more than she would like it to. And it was short; it didnt even reach her knees. Her cleavage was pushed up due to the size of the robe and self consciously she crossed her arms to try and cover them. It only served to push them up higher. Kyra inwardly scowled.

But meeting his gaze was also a mistake. She had to fight the internal urge to force them to put something else on. Her mother had been a stickler for public decency when she was alive. She couldn't help her eyes from, if only momentarily, flashing down to his abdomen. It was no secret that the oldest Stark boys were easy on the eyes, but she hadn't expected that.

She quickly tore her eyes away as Jon was pushed up off the makeshift stool. "My lady," the barber gestured to the stool. Kyra studied his gaze carefully with narrowed eyes, searching for any other intentions than cutting her hair. No doubt Robb, Theon and Jon would go scurrying off to do whatever they do, and leave her all alone. She reminded herself that she had a knife, but seriously hurting a citizen of Winterfell like she was prone to do, should that ever occur, would put her place in the Stark family seriously at risk.

Nevertheless she hesitantly sat down, her eyes flitting between the boys. While Theon decided to slip away, Robb and Jon stayed. Jon looked more like he was just waiting for Robb, his eyes flickering around the room, but Robb's intense gaze was locked onto Kyra's. "Be quick about it, Tommy," he said, his tone dark, as he kept his eyes locked on her. She met his gaze, forcing herself to stay strong.

She'd never been subjected to this kind of thing before. Being in close contact with men, other than just sitting with them or hunting with them, let alone being in this tiny room with barely any clothes on. Any further and we might as well call it bedding each other. She forced a mirthless chuckle down as it arose.

Luckily he only chopped off a bit of her long, jet black hair, and instead of pushing her up to her feet like he did with the other three, he stepped aside and gestured for her to get up. Common decency. She breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as she pulled the cloak she hadn't even realised she'd been clutching so hard back around her and pulled the hood over her head. Forcing a small, fresh smile on her face, she gestured for the door. "Shall we?"

Robb simply mumbled his reply as he waited for her to exit first. She strode out of the door, replacing her confident and placid disposition as she waited for Robb and Jon.

They had pulled their own cloaks on and were following her as she made her way towards the great hall. The short walk was silent as they climbed the stairs towards their rooms.

Kyra pushed her door shut behind her and quickly changed into more decent and suitable clothing for greeting a royal family. _Will he notice my eyes?_ She wondered quickly. _Nonsense, the Targaryens of this generation have hazel eyes, or so I'm told. Hopefully he won't suspect._ She pulled on a teal and black tunic and her hunting leather trousers. She donned her fanciest boots, and tied her her back from her face. She decided that some kind of neck embellishment would be best, so she put on a simple silver locket with an emerald in the center. Equipping her daggers once more and slipping into her cloak, she made her way back downstairs to join the Starks in welcoming the dreaded King.

**~**

Arya was missing.

Kyra didn't expect anything more from the rebellious girl, to be late in welcoming a royal party. Not that she was displeased with her; she would have done the same, herself.

She cast a side glance at Sansa, who was on her left. Arya was supposed to be on Kyra's right, but she had mysteriously disappeared.

"Where's Arya?" Lady Catelyn looked around wildly. "Sansa! Where's your sister?" Her question only resulted in an apathetic shrug.

Almost a few moments after Sansa's response, Arya came dashing in from the left. Eddard grabbed her, giving her a quizzical frown as he pulled a circular steel helm off her head. "What're doing with that on?"

Kyra glanced furtively over Sansa at Robb, as he gazed at his younger sister with amusement in his eyes. The shaven look suited him well. He met his gaze and his smile brightened as he chuckled silently.

She offered a smile of her own back as Arya came and stood in place. Just in time, too, as the hoofbeats of the horses was growing ever nearer. They burst through the archway and Kyra didn't miss the sharp intake of breath Sansa took in. She followed the eldest Stark girl's gaze straight to Prince Joffrey. Her nose wrinkled; pompous little brat was never her favourite.

The blonde boy held Sansa's gaze and she smiled happily at him. Kyra felt like convulsing. _Poor girl has a crush on him._ The red enameled carriage came next, after the many soldiers on horseback. It finally came to a halt as King Robert Baratheon rode behind it on his horse, his gaze sweeping over the Starks, and she held her breath as his eyes raked over her.

As the King dismounted, everyone came to kneel. Hurriedly Kyra followed suit and stared down at the floor. It was better she avoided his gaze, anyway. He began to march towards Lord Stark, almost angrily, and her heart leapt into her throat. _Did he recognise me?_ But he didn't pay her any mind as he came to a halt before Eddard Stark.

He gestured simply for them to rise, and hesitantly Lord Stark did. "Your Grace." He addressed with respect.

The air hung heavily as the entire courtyard waited on the King's response. Finally, he exclaimed quite unceremoniously, "You've gotten fat." Awkward furtive glances were exchanged between the rest of the Stark family, and Kyra's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

In surprise, Ned Stark simply nodded down to the King's belly and Sansa stifled a gasp at their rudeness. Then the two burst in to hearty laughter and embraced as old friends. Kyra let out her breath in a sigh of relief. The King was in a good mood; she knew what happened when he wasn't.

"Cat!" King Robert moved on, wrapping up Catelyn in a bear hug. She responded politely with, "Your Grace." He ruffled Rickon's hair and moved back to Ned. "Nine years, and why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"

An uncharacteristic joyful smile lit up Lord Stark's face. It was a welcome change. "Guarding the North for you, your Grace. Winterfell is yours." The Lannisters began exiting their carriage and Kyra's gaze was torn from the King to the dismounting Queen.

"Where's the Imp?" Arya asked, a little too loud for Sansa's liking, as she replied with a curt 'Shut up!'

"What have we here?" The King moved to Robb, tearing Kyra's gaze back. "You must be Robb." He took his hand in a firm handshake before moving to Sansa. "Ah, you're a pretty one." Her heart stopped as he came to stand in front of her. "And you. How old are you, girl?"

"15, your Grace." She remembered her manners just in time and forced herself to meet the King's gaze, bowing her head in respect while her insides churned.

"What intriguing eyes you have." He remarked. There was a veiled threat in the statement, she suspected. "It's been a long time since I've seen eyes with any trace of violet in them." Hesitantly he stepped on to Arya. "And your name is?"

"Arya." Arya answered, her eyes quickly meeting Kyra's in a silent question.

King Robert went to Bran. "Show us your muscles." Proudly Bran flexed his, however clothes and miniscule, biceps. The King laughed heartily and gave a nod. "You'll be a soldier." He strode back to his family slowly as Jaime Lannister took off his helm.

"That's Jaime Lannister, the Queen's twin brother!" Arya exclaimed in a hushed voice.

"Would you please shut up?" Sansa reprimanded testily.

The Queen slowly and regally approached Ned Stark, extending her hand. Hesitantly he took it and kissed her milky white skin. "My Queen."

"My Queen." Catelyn repeated with respect, bowing. The Queen was obviously pleased with this show of homage, as she turned back to her husband.

"Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects." The King exclaimed in his booming voice.

"We've been riding for a month, my love." Queen Cersei was averse to the idea. "Surely the dead can wait."

She was ignored, though, and King Robert gestured for Lord Stark to lead him there. "Ned." He turned and walked through his guards without waiting for the Lord of Winterfell. All in hesitation, Eddard followed.

"Where's the Imp?" Arya repeated, this time quieter. Queen Cersei heard, and marched to her brother, muttering a few words to him before the Kingslayer nodded and rode off.

Arya looked up at Kyra, a questioning look in her eyes. "Why did the King ask you about your eyes?"

"I'm not sure," she answered, lying smoothly. "Maybe he knew someone a long time ago with violet eyes."

Unhelpfully, Theon piped up. "The Targaryens of old had violet eyes, or so they say." In that moment, Kyra wanted to shove her sword through his chest, scream at him and push him down a well all at once.

"He's probably just remembering that they were similar." In order to protect herself against any further suspicion, she turned and marched away as the crowd dispersed. She felt a familiar gaze burning into her back as she went, and she knew this issue wouldn't just be swept under the rug.

Nevertheless she found peace in her room. She cast aside her cloak as the hearth in her room had kept it warm. Falling onto her bed, she picked up her book and was instantly swallowed into the words.

Within the hour, there was a knock at her door. Sighing, she snapped her book shut and swung her legs off the side of her bed, opening the wooden door.

It was Robb. She was again reminded of how his shaven face suited him, not that his stubble didn't. "Pandora, we need to hunt for the direwolves again." He said. "Come on, I want you to come with me."

"They grow fast," she mused. "Alright. Shall I alert Jon and Theon?"

"No. Just us." He stepped aside to allow her to come out from the threshold. She grabbed her cloak and began the descent down the stairs.

She came into step beside him. As much as she yearned to know why he insisted they go alone, but she wouldn't push the matter.

She restrung her bow and pulled her cloak around her again, covering her daggers and quiver, but not so much that she couldn't reach her arrows. "Are you ready?" She asked as Robb slid his sword into its sheath.

"Yes." With a silent agreement on not taking the horses or wolves, they both set out towards the gates of Winterfell.

"Are we going to the wolfswood today?" She asked as they left the grey walls behind.

"No. I figured we'd try in a different forest." The telltale treetops of a pine forest loomed on the horizon.

"Maybe we should have brought our horses." Kyra mused, her eyes on the horizon.

"It's only a short walk away," he reassured, and the two fell into silence.

Much on the contrary of their usual comfortable quiescent moments, tenseness hung in the air like a winged predator, ready to drop in on its prey at any moment.

The most part of the walk was in this silence. She could almost feel the question on Robb's tongue as if it were on her own, how close it was to bursting forth.

But he kept his silence until they reached the edges of the forest. She nocked an arrow but didn't pull it back, just in case something were to make itself apparent.

It was an unspoken understanding that they would need at least six rabbits this time, to feed the quickly growing pups. Luckily Kyra had remembered to bring a leather satchel to carry them in, rather than carrying the corpses in their arms.

They were a few minutes walk into the forest when Robb stopped and turned to face her. He stepped closer to her, his eyes burning into hers. "Is there something you want to tell me, Pandora?" He asked, his tone masking an ominous underlying statement which screamed 'You need to tell me something, Pandora'.

She shook her head as if she had no idea what he was talking about. "No, why do you ask?" She met his icy blue gaze squarely.

"Don't act like you don't know what I mean." His eyes narrowed. "I'm only concerned for you. You're afraid of the King, you're always creeping around in the shadows, not to mention you're constantly armed... And you refuse to let us in and let us know who you really are." The hard shell around his eyes cracked and revealed the worry that had been plaguing him. "I want you to know you can trust me, but I don't know if I can trust you."

She sighed, dropping her gaze. "With good reason. Look, I know it's a little hard to do this right now, but I need you to. It's... It's really not the right time to be asking."

"Prying isn't in my nature, but it's worrying me. You can trust me-"

"I know!" She felt herself crack, her frustration bursting forth like a floodgate had been forced open. "I'm not who you think I am! Yes, I am the true daughter of Celesse Tyrnea, a good friend of your father, and I don't mean to harm the House of Stark. But I'm really not..." Her voice trailed off and she raised her eyes to his. "You're trying to tell me I can trust you. But can I? We barely know each other."

"You've been spending the last three months with me. I know you well enough to know that you love reading, alcohol and fighting, and you're a great dancer when you're not drunk. You have no problem defending yourself against both verbal and physical attacks. And you love children and teaching. Is that not enough?"

Kyra felt her composure slip away and she stepped back, turning away from him. There was a heavy silence as he stood there, behind her, and she felt his gaze on her back. Then finally, she whispered, "My name isn't Pandora."

It took a few moments to register in his head. "... Is that all that-"

"No. I'm using a fake name, which is Pandora, because I'm hiding other things. I've been using it my whole entire life." She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her elbows.

Hesitantly, Robb placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then what is your real name?" When she didn't answer, he pushed on. "I want to hear it."

"Kyra." She told him truthfully and slowly, wording it out costively. "Please just keep it between us for now."

"Kyra." He pulled her around to face him, and the sincerity in his eyes warmed her empty heart. "I know you're in pain. I know. But you have a new family now. You can trust us. Promise me, that before you leave us, you'll tell us." His eyes implored into hers and she hesitantly met his deep, intense orbs.

"I promise." She whispered, her voice cracking mortifyingly.

"Now come here." He pulled her into a friendly and comforting embrace. She fisted his fur cloak, falling into his arms as she subconsciously let all of her worries slip away.

All too soon he let go and gave her a reassuring smile. "Now, come on. I have hunting to do, whether you're coming or not." He unsheathed his sword and turned to stride off into the copse. Grabbing her bow, she smirked and raced after him.

"Not without me, you aren't!" He turned and looked over his shoulder at her as she raced up and came into step with him, and for the first time in years, Kyra truly, and sincerely felt elated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so bummed they didn't have the Targaryens in the TV series with violet eyes, and while this fanfic is based off the show, I couldn't help but merge the two together.
> 
> Please leave a review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

After a successful hunt, Kyra and Robb took back their game and simply threw it to the direwolves. They were getting larger and feistier by the day, and she wouldn't have been surprised if they snapped off a finger of theirs by accident.

As Kyra stood beside him, watching the wolves gorged themselves on the meat, a silence hung in the air until Robb finally spoke up. "The feast for the King's arrival will be starting soon."

"Yes, it will." Kyra nodded, pulling her cloak tighter around her as a sudden cold breeze passed by. "Funny, I expected this place to be more boring than this. I've already been to two feasts and gotten ambushed once."

"Honestly, these have been some of the most hectic few months I've ever experienced up here," Robb gave a small chuckle. "Seems like you brought the excitement of King's Landing here."

Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the memory of her old home. "King's Landing is just dirty and dangerous. What excitement is to be found?"

Before Robb could answer, there was a voice calling down to them from the building behind them. "Robb, Pandora!" Kyra turned and looked over her shoulder at the person to whom the voice belonged. Catelyn Stark stood on the upstairs balcony, staring impatiently. "Go get yourselves cleaned up and dressed, the feast is starting in one hour!"

She hurriedly glanced at the sun; it had already dipped further towards the horizon than she'd realised. When Robb planted her hand on her shoulder, her gaze snapped onto his. "The Gods know what kind of men are around the King, and if they are anything like him, which I don't doubt, you'll need to watch yourself." The meaning in his eyes was definitely understood.

"They have plenty of drunk women of their own to fondle, don't worry about it." She fended with a reassuring smile. "Now, away with you. Gods forbid, you have to go bathe!" With that she chuckled, her little jape amusing only her, evidently by the deadpan look on his face, as she sauntered off to draw her own bath.

When she entered her room, she noticed a familiar shape sitting on the bed. "Elvira!" Kyra exclaimed.

"My Lady Pandora, you are attending tonight's feast if I am not mistaken." The maid, who had quickly made her way into Kyra's whitelist, was standing by the door of the bathroom attached to her solar. "Come, I have already drawn the bath for you."

"Wonderful. Thank you." She quickly slipped out of her cloak, leaving it draped across the chair in front of her vanity table, and after offering a few words to Elvira, closed the bathroom door behind her. "Make yourself comfortable, choose out a dress for me if you wish."

"Of course. Be careful of the hot w-" her words were swallowed up as the door swung closed.

Kyra swiftly disrobed, the steaming bath water which fragrant with the aroma of essential oils and soap looking incredibly enticing. She slipped into the water, the warmth simply flowing off her skin as she lowered herself into the water.

A sigh of bliss escaped her lips. Comfort was most cherished in her mind, and this didn't fail to meet her standards. As she laid there soaking, all her worries about the feast, the King, the Starks and everything in between faded away into the steam, rising and dissolving into thin air.

Soon, though, her mind regrettably returned to reality and she remembered she didn't have much time until the feast began. With a soft groan of reluctance, she lifted herself out of the water and reached for a towel, using it to dry herself off briefly before slipping into her small clothes. She wrapped the towel around her before making her way into her main bedroom.

"I was wondering when you would come out, my Lady." Elvira gave a small laugh. "Enjoyable, I trust?"

"Very. Thank you for that. Now, if you wouldn't mind doing my hair for me, that would be wonderful." She sat in the chair in front of her vanity table.

"Of course. May I have the towel to dry it?" She asked politely. Kyra nodded and pulled the towel away from her body before passing it to her.

This time, Elvira let her look in the mirror as she was being made up and beautified. "I quite love your hair when it is out and plain, my Lady," she complimented. "It suits you well."

"Thank you." Kyra gave a small smile at the praise.

Once Elvira finished drying her hair as much as possible, she led her to the hearth and sat her down in front of it so that her hair might dry. In the meantime, she showed her the few dresses she picked out.

"I thought something plain but beautiful would be lovely for tonight." She held up a navy blue dress with black lace adorning the sleeves, hem and chest. Instantly Kyra took a liking to it.

"It's beautiful. Does it have a corset?" She asked. Elvira nodded, a look of empathy on her face.

"I know it's so uncomfortable. It'll be alright, though. You'll be beautiful, as always." She reassured, yet Kyra wasn't really feeling the surety.

She stood from her chair, not really caring whether her hair was dry enough of not. "Alright, lace me up." Elvira stepped forward with a nod, flitting around her and helping her into the dress. The corset was insanely tight and, yet again, pushed her bust up too much for her comfort. She remembered clearly what Robb told her, but she kept her jaws shut anyway. _I can take care of myself just fine without his help._

Once the dress was suffocating her soundly, she was settled in front of the vanity table as Elvira did up her face, covering it just sufficiently, but not so much it looked sickeningly fake, with the coloured powder and delicately drawing around her eyes with the thin, fragile charcoal stick. Then she dabbed some coloured ointment-stick thing that Kyra didn't bother to identify on her lips and turned her around to face the mirror.

It was a natural look, but it was just as impressive as the job she did on Robb's name day. She found a faint, genuine smile spread onto her lips. "Thank you so much," Kyra praised, turning to smile over her shoulder at Elvira.

"We're not done yet! Here, I chose this out for you." She turned away swiftly, plucking something up from her bedcovers and presenting it to her. It was a simple but elegant silver locket, with what looked like was a dark, sparkling sapphire in the centre. "May I?"

"Of course." She swept her hair out of the way with her arm and Elvira gently drew the locket around her neck and fastened it shut. "There. You look wonderful."

"All thanks to you, Elvira." A prompt knock on the door interrupted them, and the maid flashed her a grin, mouthing 'Have a good time!' as she opened the door and stepped outside.

"Glad you're ready. Come on." Robb and Jon were standing at her door.

"You both came to walk me there! How gentlemanly of you." She quipped, sweeping past them and beginning the descent down the stairs.

The two were unnaturally quiet. Frowning, she turned to see them walking side by side in absolute silence. She paused and peered at them. "What's up?"

"Mother isn't allowing his presence at the feast." Robb told her simply.

"That's... Rather unkind of her." Kyra struggled for the right words to express her disapproval and not offend Robb in the same sentence.

Jon shrugged. "I'm a bastard. It's known that I don't belong at feasts."

"She let you attend Robb's name day," Kyra pressed.

"Lord Stark insisted I came." Jon explained. "Come on, you two have to be there about now."

Hesitantly she kept walking towards the great hall. Somewhere along the way Jon parted with them and escaped off to goodness-knows-where, leaving them to walk in silence towards the doubtlessly packed great hall.

The feast had already began, and it was sure in full swing. The hundred or so people packed into the hall were drinking heartily and stuffing their faces. Raucous laughter filled the hall and she could surprisingly hear the stringed instruments being plucked underneath the discord.

Robb began pushing through the crowds, sending a glance back at Kyra and gesturing for her to follow. Her path was easy, as he had made a gap for her to step in. She followed him through the crowd straight towards a wooden bench. She immediately recognised Theon sitting with a group of other men around his and Robb's age in front of him, but two empty spaces beside him.

How thoughtful. Robb sat down beside Theon and Kyra took the spot beside the Stark. Almost immediately serving girls came around with a two mugs of ale, serving one to her and one to Robb. She offered a small thanks before taking her mug and sipping it quite tamely, in comparison to the men around her who were chugging it and screaming out to the maids for more.

"This is so much noisier and crammed than your celebration, Robb," she told him in a raised voice over the clutter.

"Yeah. It sure is." He replied before taking a swig of his ale. He was sitting the wrong way on the bench, leaning against the table and staring out over the masses, his tankard in hand and those intense steel coloured eyes. She found herself gazing at his chiselled cheekbones and hairless, sharp jaw. And his hair, dark and curly, definitely more attractive than her plain black locks.

When she realised she was staring, she hastily averted her gaze and began to chug her ale.

"Don't go too fast," he noticed her sudden dangerous interest in her alcohol. "I don't want to have to carry you back to your room again."

She rolled her eyes. "You didn't carry me last time, you were just there. I could've done just fine by myself."

He chuckled, planting his empty tankard back on the table. "I'll believe that when I see it." He signalled for a refill and a serving girl came and topped up everyone's mugs.

Kyra had barely looked at the males on the other side of the table who were all laughing and joking heartily with Theon. She was glad they hadn't paid her any mind.

Almost as if she had jinxed herself, just as she thought that very thing, one of them pointed at her. "Robb, who's this?"

"One of your wenches?" Another teased with a laugh.

"Or is she yours, Theon?" She forced herself to continue scowling down into her ale, finding her own eyes glaring fiercely back at herself through the murky brown liquid.

"I don't want to hear you speaking about her that way," Robb's voice suddenly took on a sharp edge. "She's not only a guest, but she's a protecter and valuable member of our house."

"Is she now?" They clearly didn't buy it. Kyra slowly raised her eyes menacingly, raking her glare mercilessly across the row of boys.

"Yes, I believe she is." Her voice came out quieter and more threatening than she'd expected, to her content. "And she doesn't enjoy being likened to a whore."

It seemed they were smarter than they looked. After a few moments of horror-stricken silence, their ardor began trickling back as they struck up another conversation about something completely different.

She set about finishing her ale, secretly relishing the look of terrified awe in their eyes. It had definitely rectified her affrontedness.

Kyra startled to life when Robb's hand fervently shook her by the shoulder. "Look!" He exclaimed, pointing to a man who had just entered the great hall and had pushed his way through the crowd towards Lord Stark. "It's my Uncle Benjen. Come on, you should meet him."

Without waiting to hear her protest, he took her by the arm and pulled her out from the bench. She sighed in defeat and let him lead her through the crowd towards his father and uncle.

They seemed to be in the midst of a deep conversation when she and Robb approached. At their entry, their faces brightened and Robb embraced his uncle heartily.

"Uncle Benjen," he greeted, his voice bursting with joy.

"Robb. How are you?" Benjen Stark clamped his hand on Robb's back, obviously just as pleased to see him.

"I'm good." As they pulled apart, she got a chance to see Benjen's face in the light. He had the same hardened features as Eddard Stark, but darker hair and a more prominent brow. He definitely seemed a great deal more chipper than Lord Stark, though.

"Who's this lovely lass?" He asked, flashing Kyra a smile in greeting.

"Her name is Pandora, the daughter of Celesse Tyrnea." Ned Stark explained.

"Ah, she was a lovely woman. It was saddening to hear of her passing." Benjen's face fell as he offered his condolences. While Kyra still felt the painful tug of agony at her heart, she found it didn't tear her apart inside like it used to.

"I miss her more than anything, but I've been welcomed into a new family. It doesn't hurt so much anymore." Kyra offered with a grateful smile at Robb and Eddard.

"She's one of yours now?" Benjen asked Ned. The Lord of Winterfell nodded in response. "While its a bit cold, you'll find it comfortable enough, I trust." The smile was back and Kyra found it infectious. "Anyhow, how has life been, Robb? Heard you've reached your 16th year." He clamped Robb's shoulder, giving him a proud shake.

"I've been doing great. Life's been good. And how about you at the Wall?"

Kyra hadn't realised he was from the Night's Watch. While she knew the Starks were deeply embedded in the Watch and had been for years, she was not aware that Benjen Stark was. She inwardly scolded her skills of perception for letting her down. She should have noticed his telltale black garb.

"Bloody cold, but that's no different, eh?" He laughed. "There's been more wildling attacks, but nothing more than we can handle."

"Funny you mention that, we ran into some wildlings within her first week here," Robb gestured towards Kyra. She nodded in validation.

"Is that so?" Benjen's cheery disposition quickly faded, his lips setting into a hard line. "They shouldn't be this far South."

"It's because winter is coming," Ned murmured darkly.

"Come, Ned, no need to be so dark! This is a celebration, am I right?" Benjen gave a lopsided smile. "Not that you would be enjoying it, with these Lannisters about. And the King, with all his antics."

"You can say that again," Lord Stark muttered, his eyes trained on King Robert, who had his arms wrapped around a plump serving lady, his hands grasping her behind while Queen Cersei looked on. Kyra felt a faint, almost undetectable twist of sympathy for the Queen.

"You'd better get back, you two, your friends'll be missing you." With a final bear hug between Robb and Benjen, they said their goodbyes and began pushing through the crowd again.

Kyra sat down at the end of the bench again, pleased to find her tankard had been refilled. Robb sat down, leaning against the table in the same manner as he had before. Kyra manoeuvred her body and twisted around to sit beside him, her back pressed against the wood of the table. "I wonder how Jon is," she wondered aloud.

"Knowing him, he's probably slashing something to bits or in his room, brooding." Robb gave an educated guess, taking a mouthful of his cold ale. "I can't imagine he'd be too happy."

"I can't blame him. It's not very fair on him, that he has to get treated this way because of a little slip up your father made."

Robb's lips set in a hard line, his eyes wrought with concern. "I know. He knows he was a mistake, and a product of my father's unfaithfulness. While I'm not pleased he lost sight of his honour, Jon is still my brother."

"You two are best friends. It must be hard to see him be so down," she nodded, gazing down at the floorboards.

The conversation fell silent and Kyra bore down into her mug, staring at her reflection again. Suddenly her gaze was wrenched up again at the sound of a mortified screech from just across the room.

" _Arya!_ " It was Sansa. Some kind of desert was now adorning her cheek, and her face was exuding absolute horror and rage.

Kyra's gaze darted to Arya, who was just digging back into her plate of dessert, attempting to look like she had done nothing but was failing miserably, a cheeky grin on her face as the entire room erupted in raucous laughter.

"It's not funny!" Sansa wailed, her voice shrill and wrought with despair. "She always does this!" A girl around Sansa's own age began assisting her in cleaning it off.

Robb was in absolute hysterics beside her, to the point she thought the Stark boy was drunk. As she watched the side of his face, marvelling at the vast amount in which his entire being differed from when he was solemn-faced and just generally being a Stark, to when he was laughing like this.

Suddenly, he straightened up with haste and cleared his throat. Kyra's eyebrows furrowed as she followed his gaze to a glaring Lady Stark. Robb climbed to his feet and marched promptly over to his mischievous little sister and hoisted her up, plonked her down and began escorting her across the hall. "Time for bed," she heard him say to her as they approached the door.

Suddenly, without the near presence of someone she trusted and knew well, the room seemed a great deal smaller and the people more cramped in. _I think I need some air,_ Kyra decided as her lungs decisively tightened uncomfortably. Hurriedly she got to her feet and pushed through the crowd, her eyes eagerly seeking out the exit.

As soon as she step into the chilly night air, she felt her mind clear and she was able to breathe properly again. She escaped further from the cramped hall, staring up at the sky. The bright, glowing moon was high in the sky and beginning to descend towards the other side of the horizon, signalling it would have been around midnight. How time flies, she mused with wonder.

She leaned against the wall of the tower directly across from the great hall, her eyes trained on the night sky. The stars all glimmered so vividly, lighting up the sky in a way she'd never seen before. In the cramped city of King's Landing, she could never see the stars like this. There were always too many lights already lit on the surface. Winterfell had brought to her many small wonders, and helped her appreciate those wonders.

"What're you doing out here?" Kyra's eyes dropped down to see Robb approaching from her right.

"It was getting a little too cramped in there, so I came out here for some fresh air." She explained, her breath billowing in grey clouds in the frosty air. "I might take my leave before long, too."

"So soon?" He came to stand beside her and she looked up at his face as he gazed down on her. "I thought you would've had a bit more to drink first."

She gave a small chuckle. "As much as I wish to do that, the aftermath last time was not enjoyable at all. Perhaps I should avoid that this time."

He nodded in understanding. After a brief pause, he turned and made to return to the great hall. "I'm going to stay a while longer. If you do too, I'll be waiting for you, if not, have a good night." With a final, faint smile he left her standing in the cold night air.

As soon as he was out of eyeshot, she turned and quickly made for her room, in the same tower as Arya's. She was eager to have some time to herself; being surrounded by many other people she didn't know tended to tire her.

Kyra climbed the stairs, suddenly aware of her fatigue, and came to her door. She entered her room and closed it behind her before hurriedly changing into clothing suitable for sleeping and without much delay, fell into her bed and wrapped the fur covers around her tightly.

Elvira had been kind enough to leave the hearth blazing, and the room was a warm reprieve from the cold outdoors. For a while she laid there, staring at the stone roof and somewhat unwanted memories from that night came flooding into her mind. Sitting beside Robb, drinking and laughing, the satisfaction of successfully repelling those boys, and other memories about her companion she didn't want to recognise.

But in enough time, she felt the euphorically empty darkness of sleep engulf her and she dreamt vividly of wolves, dragons and mounting flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering about the scene made when Kyra escaped the people and made a big deal about that they were people, she would be diagnosed with social anxiety if she was actually a real person. So she's kinda not okay with people sometimes.
> 
> Please leave a review!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

Kyra hadn't been too sure why Jon had asked her, Robb and Theon to come to his solar at such a time in the morning, but she didn't question. It must have been important for him to want to speak with them in private.

She was the last to arrive, her awakening proving to be a tedious task. Robb and Theon were standing in front of the hearth, not a word being spoken between them, while Jon silently sat on his bed, eyes fixed on the wall.

Kyra decided not to push the situation. The air was palpably tense and it would probably not be wise. Instead, she stood beside the door awkwardly, gazing at the floor.

"I'm joining the Night's Watch." Jon suddenly spoke up, his voice quiet and sullen.

"What?" Pure shock lanced through her like lightning as her stare was wrenched up to gape at him. "You're leaving? Why?"

"I don't belong here," he explained quietly, his voice resonating sadly with acceptance. "I'm not a Stark, I'm a Snow. And I'm not wanted."

"We want you here," she pointed out. "You're one of our best friends. You leaving would be..." She failed to find words and sighing in defeat, she simply slouched back. "It's your decision, in the end. I can't change your mind."

"No." He firmly shook his head.

Robb had been silent the whole time, his eyes boring holes in the floor. Then he looked up. "Well, if we can't convince you to stay, I suppose we should be proud of you." A faint smile tweaked the edges of his lips, as if he was still adjusting to the idea that his brother was leaving.

Silence fell as Jon nodded and Kyra leaned against the wall, her eyes flitting over the boys. Soon there would be three, and one of the most valuable parts of their group would be severed.

"I'll write often," Jon spoke up, standing up from his seated position on the bed.

"Good." Robb answered. "I will, too."

"Come on, don't be so down, you lot!" Theon cut in. "We've still got a few days left before you leave, so let's make the most of it."

Kyra found herself nodding in agreement. "Definitely." She managed a small smile. "I think a few drinks are in order. Don't you?"

"Later tonight." Robb answered. "We have things to do today."

"Like what?" Her question was left unanswered as the three boys walked past her out of the room. Rolling her eyes, she huffed at the blatant ignorance and followed.

**~**

It wasn't until an hour later that Kyra was informed that she would be accompanying the King and Lord Stark on their hunt the day after the feast. It seemed that all she had been doing with her life was hunting and banqueting. Not that she was complaining; there were worse ways to be whittling away the days until her 16th name day.

As she saddled up her horse, she recalled her last name day. It had been a small affair, just a fine day spent at home with her books.

 _My next can't be far now,_ she mused silently as she fastened the saddle on. _Two moons, perhaps?_

As she mounted her horse, this time with less failure than the last, she cast a side glance at Robb and Benjen Stark, who were having a breezy conversation. The two seemed to be incredibly close. She envied that sort of relationship.

She clutched her reins and King Robert shouted for the party to ride out. Robb's conversation with Benjen halted and he straightened up, tightening his grip on the leather reins. She offered him a small, tight smile and his returned smile was easier. His eyes took on a concerned light as he sensed what the source of her unease was.

As they rode out of the city gates and across the plains outside Winterfell, he stuck close to her. He was quite protective, in his own little way. She found it very endearing, and a tad ironic. It was her job to convoy the Stark family, and not his job to protect her.

"I don't know why you're so afraid of him," he murmured softly, "but if it's causing you concern-"

"It's not fear," she asserted. "It's just... foreboding, or something."

"You say that like something bad will happen. Trust me, it'll be fine." She felt a tinge of warmth in her heart. He was such a dear sometimes, all concerned and the like.

Kyra turned her eyes back to the terrain ahead as her horse pushed on forward. The sparse plains soon turned to a light coppice and then the dense, rocky forest that Winterfell's lands were famous for came looming up ahead.

Even from her position at the rear of the party, she could hear the King's rugged, raucous voice. She couldn't hear a thing from Lord Stark, but that was expected. "Alright, you lot, off your horses. We'll be walking from here on out."

She could almost hear the collective inward groaning in the air as everyone dismounted their horses. Kyra didn't mind the walking part, though. She rather enjoyed walking through the bloody cold yet beautiful forests of the North, especially with a friend by her side.

As soon as she'd secured her horse's lead rope around a tree, she took her trusty bow in hand and fell into step with Robb as they manoeuvred the countryside.

Word was the King wished to hunt a boar, and the Gods knew he wouldn't leave without one. _Where in the seven hells will we find a boar out here?_ She wondered incredulously, wishing she could have stayed behind. Nevertheless, she pushed on forward, her weapon at the ready and Robb by her side. Just the way she enjoyed hunting.

Hours later and they had still not found a boar in these woods. They had found an elk and a few large rabbits. King Robert gave the command to trudge back to Winterfell, which everyone happily carried out.

The poor sods at the very back were tasked with carrying all of the game back. Kyra didn't envy them as she trotted on, keeping in step with the company. She felt a yearning desire in her heart to run free across the plains, the wind flying in her hair and freedom liberating her senses.

But she had to keep with the party, much to her dismay.

As the archway marking the gate of Winterfell passed over her head, relief flooded her and she hastily dismounted her horse and left it tithe stable hand as she turned to hurry off to her room, or wherever was most comfortable for her.

But then she realised the coldness in the air. It wasn't right. A direwolf howled in the distance, and it's cry was eerie. Something was wrong.

"Where do you think you're going?" Robb's voice called out as she tried to make her escape. "Come on, don't you want to-"

"My Lord!" A sharp and urgent voice called out as Maester Luwin approached with haste. "My Lord... I am so terribly sorry..."

"What?" Eddard Stark sensed the disquiet in the air and his eyes widened slightly.

"Bran... He-" The maester's words were abruptly cut off when Lord Stark pushed the reins of his horse into the chest of the stable hand.

"Take me to him." He demanded.

It wasn't voiced, but as Kyra's eyes flew to Robb's, it was a unanimous decision that it was necessary they went too.

 _What happened? Oh, dear Gods, please let him be safe..._ She prayed frantically as she rushed up the stairs to Bran's room behind Lord Stark and Maester Luwin.

The group burst into the room where Lady Catelyn was crouching beside the bed, her face buried in the covers. She was sobbing miserably and it wasn't until Kyra noticed the still form in the bed that her body tensed up and a frantic grief began working its way through his system.

"No... No!" Robb exclaimed, pushing forward to the end of the bed. "What happened to him?" When there was silence, he whirled around and glared imposingly into Maester Luwin's eyes, his own steel blue eyes blazing. "Tell me!"

"He fell, whilst climbing the broken tower." The maester's voice was quiet and melancholic. "He is in a comatose state, and I fear he may never awaken."

Eddard pushed forward, past his son, and went straight to his wife's side, kneeling on the floor beside her and wrapping his arms around her. She immediately reacted, burying her face in his cloak as she wept.

Kyra felt frozen in place, her feet glued to the floor. _How... How could this happen?_ Sweet little Bran, the brave aspiring warrior who could have scaled the Wall itself without slipping once. And now he may never wake again?

"If he does wake, he will never regain use of his legs." Oh, that was just the icing on the cake, wasn't it? He loved to climb, to run, to ride... Now the possibility would never arise again.

Without saying a word, Robb turned and without so much as a glance at Kyra he nudged past her and in a flurry of fur and leather, went tramping down the stairs.

"Go to him," Ned Stark's voice was quiet and wrought with empty grief.

She couldn't even manage an affirmative nod as she forced her feet to move. She turned and almost robotically ran down the stairs after him.

Another loved one, possibly lost. She felt like every person who she got close to would eventually be torn from her. She loved Bran like he was her own brother, her own child, even. She couldn't imagine what it would be like for his true family, if it felt this terrible for her.

She managed to catch up to Robb as he snatched his horse away from the stable hand, who was just beginning to unsaddle her, and he quickly swung up onto the saddle. Without another word he launched his horse into a violent gallop and went racing out of the gates.

Kyra stirred to life again and took her own horse, mounting her with a little less stride. She trotted after him, making sure to leave a little space between their departures. No doubt he wanted some time alone.

She came across him not long after. Or, his horse. It was close enough. She was tied against a tree, all alone. Robb was nowhere to be found. Kyra decided she would leave her own horse there and continue after him on foot. He wouldn't be far off, she suspected.

As she tied the lead rope in a knot around a nearby tree, she suppressed her own feelings of misery and continued in search of him. Her first priority was the Starks. Her feelings came second. That was her job.

On the top of a rise in the plains, he sat against a tall oak tree, his back pressed against it. Only when she approached him quietly did she notice the wetness threatening to surge forward from his eyes. She knew the frustration of having to suppress her tears. No doubt he meant to clutch to his pride. But there was no pride in remaining steel-faced, at a time like this.

She decided against saying anything as she crept up. He knew she was there, no doubt about it, but she was still silent regardless. She lowered herself to the ground beside him, leaning against the tree.

It was a long time before Robb spoke up. "He never falls. Never." His usually strong voice was tainted with anguish, and it was cracked. She turned her head to gaze at him as he looked up, a single tear finally falling from his eye. "I can't believe this."

He pressed his face back down into his crossed arms, decisively to hide his moist eyes. Kyra hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder. When he didn't respond, she shook him lightly. He only then stirred to life, his gaze meeting hers.

His steely blue eyes were filled to the brim with trepidation. She felt her heart cry out, feeling a similar pain within herself.

"What if he never walks again?" His voice was almost inaudible. "He wanted to be a knight, so badly. Now... Gods, what if he doesn't even wake up? Maester Luwin-"

"He will," Kyra told him fiercely. It felt as if she was also reassuring herself. "He's a fighter, he will wake up. I know it."

Robb's eyes hesitantly lowered as he gave a single, small nod. She hesitantly lowered her hand to take his own, and she clutched it tightly to reassure him. "If anything, we have to keep strong and faithful. For Bran. He would want us to believe in him and to be strong. That's all we can do for him right now, he is in the hands of the Gods. And the maester, of course."

Eventually Robb answered, his voice regaining its strength. "You're right. He would... Just like I would." He pulled his hand away from hers and climbed to his feet. "Thank you."

She was touched by this unusual show of vulnerability. Usually Robb was the face of dignity and protectiveness. She never knew him to allow someone else to comfort him, or see him in such a state. If anything, she was honoured.

"Its the least I can do. For you, and for Bran." She climbed to her feet after him and walked past him towards the horses, a new sense of hope intertwined with her fresh grief which was slowly starting to fade under the light of her faith. "I'm sure he will wake. I know it."

Silence fell as she mounted her horse beside him, and not another word was said as they simply trotted slowly back to Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, filled with the feels. A longer chapter is in order! Hopefully it shall come about soon.
> 
> Please leave a review!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

There were no drinks that night, as they had planned originally. The shock was too great and the atmosphere too grim to think about alcohol.

When Kyra finally slept, her slumber was fraught with erratic awakenings. However, when she woke at the correct time of morning, the sun shining through the window in glittering ribbons, she noticed a dark red stain on her sheets.

"Seven hells," she cursed as she rolled out of bed. Judging by the time, Elvira would be there soon to do her routine tidying of her room. So it wasn't too much of a problem.

She quickly stripped down, out of her loose and now-bloodstained trousers that she slept in and folded them before changing into something different and suitable for the day, lining her underwear with something to protect it from the blood flow. As predicted, Elvira came knocking gently on the door not long after.

She noticed the sheet as soon as she entered, and a shocked look came to her face. "My Lady, is this your first blood?"

"No." Kyra answered grimly and honestly. She had always made sure to clean the sheets herself, before, as she was used to not having her mother to clean it for her, so it was a habit. But there was no time today.

"I see." She pressed her lips together and gathered up the sheets and dirtied clothing. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this. You have business to attend to; Lord Stark and Jon Snow are leaving this morning."

"That's right..." She knew Ned would return, but he was only a friend and a guardian figure. Jon was her best friend. She would hear from him via letter, she knew, and he would occasionally visit if they were lucky, but it was still sad.

_I should be proud._ Kyra told herself staunchly. _He's becoming a man of the Night's Watch and protecting the realm for us. That's an honour._ But she couldn't shake the sorrowful feeling as she traipsed out to the courtyard to say her farewells.

The courtyard was bustling and lively with people, but the mood couldn't have been less somber. As her eyes sought out Jon, she found him in a brotherly embrace with Robb and she felt a small twinge in her heart. He really was leaving.

As she forced her feet to move towards him, Robb pulled away with one last smile and a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and turned away. He locked his steely blue eyes with Kyra's own lavender ones and for a moment they held gazes until she passed him and came to stand before Jon.

"This is it, then, I suppose." She murmured with a soft, wistful smile. "You better write to us often, and do a damn good job protecting us."

"I'll do my best." He returned the somber smile and it was a rare, treasured moment in her heart to see Jon Snow genuinely smile, even if it was sad.

He finished saddling up his horse and turned to her. Kyra's arms opened and she welcomed a farewell embrace, the air turning bittersweet to the taste. They broke apart before long and she stepped back.

"Farewell, Jon Snow." She told him.

"Farewell to you, too, Pandora." As he turned away to finish tightening the straps on his saddle, she felt a powerful urge to divulge her true name to him. Now of all times, too, as she may never be able to tell him again. But those words were left unspoken as she turned to say goodbye to Lord Stark.

She found him upon his horse beside King Robert, and her farewell was quick and respectful. She meant to make her escape as soon as possible, away from the King. She was sad he was leaving, but more afraid of the King suspecting something and ordering her death.

Arya and Sansa were on the other side of the courtyard. Kyra had grown very fond of the two girls; Arya for her mischievous and tomboyish ways and Sansa for her politeness and at times endearing naïveté. She shared a heartfelt hug with the two of them and wished them good luck in the great capital of Westeros. Sansa seemed to be absolutely thrilled, while Arya wasn't so much. But nevertheless, she was excited to be journeying so far South.

After her goodbyes with the girls, she stood back, coming to lean against a pillar at the edge of the courtyard, Robb silently came and stood beside her. Together they watched the royal party ride out of Winterfell, hopefully for the last time.

It was a few minutes after they left before she turned to him and spoke, a small smirk coming to her face. "So, my Lord of Winterfell," she toyed with the words slowly, testing out his new title. "You're my new commander."

"So it would seem." He answered, his eyes still locked on the horizon.

"How would I serve you?" She let a japing edge come to her voice.

"Only treat me as your equal," he answered with a small chuckle, fixing his gaze on her.

"Sure, then." She gave a small nod, her smirk growing. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"So, rumour has it that you two went alone into the woods together yesterday." A new voice added itself to the conversation. Kyra turned to see Theon Greyjoy standing behind them, an assuming grin on his face.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Kyra felt her former good spirits drop into the very bottom of her soul and were quickly replaced with burning frustration at Theon and his constant obscenely sexual remarks. "Would you shut up, for once?" She pushed down the rising urge to punch him so hard he would have to speak out of his asshole.

"Touchy." He sensed her ire and left the subject be, like a smart boy.

"I'm going into the godswood. Don't wait up for me." Breathing a huff of irritation, she pushed past him and stalked off towards the copse.

**~**

The great weirwood was standing tall, rising high into the sky. It's beautiful crimson leaves were littering the ground surrounding the large pond beside it.

Her temperate mood slowly returned to her as she lowered herself down to sit on one of the sturdy roots, gazing at the face carved into the tree. The sap leaking from its eyes made it look as if it were crying blood. She sighed and pulled her eyes to the root beside her, placing her hand on it gently.

She could feel her mother's presence. Encompassing her like a warm breeze, despite the frosty air. Warming her heart that was empty, before.

_I used to be so bleak before coming here,_ she recalled the days after the recovery of her will (i.e. the reminder of her only loved one's death) and the fresh, agony-ridden days directly following her passing. "But now it's different," she murmured aloud, voicing her feelings.

The wind whispered in her ears as a silent answer.

She knew her mother would approve. Celesse was not the kind of person to arrogantly wish her daughter pain upon her demise. Instead she would wish her the happiest life, for her to keep living.

"You told me that, the day you died." Kyra murmured slowly, stroking the tree root gently as her eyes blankly gazed at it. "You wanted me to live on happily, but it was so hard. Now..." She slowly raised her eyes to the rose red leaves. "It's not that hard anymore."

**~**

"Mother hasn't left that room for days." It was just over a week after the terrible tragedy of Bran falling out of the tower. Robb was fretting again, about his mother, about Rickon, about Bran. His hands clasped, his gaze was locked on the table below him. Kyra let a concerned frown come to her face. These matters were falling too hard on him.

But he was right to be worried. Catelyn indeed was glued to that room, Bran hadn't shown signs of awakening (yet Maester Luwin was sure he would live, probably even wake) and Rickon was constantly by Robb's side, crying and demanding the whereabouts of his mother and brother. She couldn't bring herself to tell the poor boy.

"She's convinced he won't live through it," Kyra assured him. "She will see. Maester Luwin is dead set on Bran living, and I know he will."

"She's forgetting about the rest of her family." Robb sighed. "I need to speak with her. Remind her about us."

"Then go. Although, you aren't handling things too badly yourself. You make a fine Lord." She tried reassuring him, but to no avail.

"I'm not sure of that. But thank you," he climbed up off the table, his dinner barely touched. _He's worrying so much,_ she mused silently as he strode towards the stairs and ascended towards Bran's room.

Kyra finished her food and asked the serving girl politely for some wine. She was in the mood for a fine wine tonight, to take her mind off her troubles. But not long after it arrived and she held the chalice in her hand, sipping gently, she noticed an unearthly red glow over the walls of Winterfell.

What in the world... Just as her eyes widened with realisation, Robb came racing down the stairs. "Fire," he echoed her thoughts, horror shining in his blue eyes. "Stay here. I'll rally the guards and-"

"No, I'm coming!" She insisted, her wine forgotten as she obstinately pushed her chair back. "Tell me where the guards are. I'll ready them all with buckets, and we'll put it out with snow or water. Whatever we can find."

Hesitantly the cogs in his mind turned. She inwardly screamed at him; there was no time to decide. But finally he nodded and urged her on. "Go. Meet me out there." With a nod, Kyra turned and her feet set her on a fast course out towards the guard barracks as the fire glowed and raged on outside the walls.

**~**

Robb only rode his horse bareback most of the way before the heat got too much to bear for the poor animal, and he dismounted, leaving her to stand diligently as she always did. The fire wasn't as large as it had formerly seemed, but it was still formidable. As the telltale heavy footfalls of the guards came thundering like a stampede behind him, he hurriedly turned as they came rushing up. They spread around all parts of the fire, around the back and sides, leaving him alone. His eyes searched for a discarded bucket, anything he could use. But then he saw Kyra.

She wasn't running towards the fire, just walking calmly as ever. She didn't flinch once at the heat, and her eyes had an eerily calm glow to them. "Kyra..." He called out, a warning in his voice. Is she alright? Somehow he doubted she was. His words didn't even register as she came to stand right up close to the fire, the flames dancing dangerously close to her face. Then her hand snaked out and his eyes widened, a shout of horror on his lips, and she reached out to the inferno.

"Kyra! Stop!" He tried in vain to get close to her, panic and terror racing through his veins and pumping in his ears. _She could die. She's going to get herself killed!_ The thought was unbearable. She couldn't die... not now.

But he was ignored again. Suddenly she leapt back and he rushed towards her in fear she was morbidly burnt.

When her fingers brushed the flame, her eyes cleared and with a cry of pain she leaped back, but her fingers were barely scathed.

_Fire cannot kill a dragon._ The old saying flashed through his mind, cracking down on him like lightning. And the realisation was the thunder, rolling in after as she regained her senses and her eyes met his. They were wide, and terribly afraid.

"Oh, Gods..." She breathed, staring straight into his eyes. "Robb-"

"Kyra. Who are you?" He asked dangerously, stepping back. He felt his eyes take on a distrustful and wary edge and she visibly flinched. He felt her recoil within himself, a pang in his chest. But he couldn't falter. "Is this-"

"No. Don't say it." The fire roared on beside them, screaming for his attention, but his feet were glued in place. She whirled around and began to run. She was fleeing away from him.

And he let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter wasn't too great in length either. But the cat's finally out of the bag.
> 
> In case you didn't notice, she pulled a Daenerys and kind of had no idea what was going on as another subconscious sense guided her. So that wasn't intentional in her mind.
> 
> Please leave a review!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

Kyra couldn't get the terrifying scene out of her mind; her clouded inhibitions as she approached the fire, the way her mind completely slipped out of her grasp and all she could think of was the burning flames, the way the inferno simply welcomed her fingers and how she barely burned.

But the thing that haunted her the most was the look in Robb's eyes.

His steel blue eyes, mirroring the dancing sea of flames, were a swirling blue abyss of agony, betrayal and wariness all in one. _He knows. He must hate me._ The thought was unbearable, to the point where she felt as if her life wasn't worth living because the only person who still lived that she truly treasured felt betrayed by her.

 _Maybe it would be easier for everyone, if I just disappeared off the face of the earth._ Her mind just didn't stop as she brought her tender and slightly singed fingers close to her face. _The King would be pleased, the Targaryen bloodline would be one less and I would be with mother again._

The thought of Robb despising her and distrusting her was heart-rending. She couldn't bear the very notion. Now he would force her out of Winterfell and out of his life.

The same thought replayed over and over again as she escaped from him, the flames blazing on. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't leave the guards all alone with this inferno. Instead she grabbed her own bucket which she had dropped somewhere along the way and by the time she sprinted back and filled it with snow, the fire was under control anyway.

 _I did nothing to help,_ she thought bitterly, throwing her snow on the fire nevertheless. _I'm useless._ Her mind was spiraling down that same pattern again.

"My Lady, please return to Winterfell. We have it under control." The head commander of the guard, a man she hadn't bothered to learn the name of, asked her to return and wordlessly she complied, discarding her bucket and beginning to walk back.

It was one of the most difficult tasks in her life not to break into a run and flee from it all. But she held a steady pace until she reached her horse. Blank-minded, she bestrode the mare and steered it towards the bleak grey walls she had only just started to call home.

**~**

The night was getting old but she couldn't sleep. The fire was well and truly out now, she trusted, and she hadn't seen a hint of Robb throughout the whole night, thankfully.

She couldn't begin to imagine what he would do. She was foolish in letting him see, although she couldn't really blame herself; it was like an otherworldly entity was controlling her. She didn't think anyone else had seen... had they?

She sure hoped not. There was no time to worry about that, anyway; only time to sleep. Except that wouldn't come easily now.

Kyra stiffened and her limbs froze as the dreaded knock came on her door. A dull thump through the silence of her cold room. But she couldn't deny it.

Slowly, as alarm bells rung blatantly in her consciousness, she approached the door and swung it open.

 _Oh._ Her heart dropped into her stomach. "My Lord." She refused to meet his eyes, simply staring at his feet. "It's late."

"I know. Can I come in?" The answer had to be yes. There was no other way she could go. Silently she stepped aside, letting him pass into her room.

Without taking off his cloak, he strode to the hearth and stood in front of it, not turning to face her. The room was filled with a dead silence, hanging threateningly over their heads, the only sound being the crackling of the flames in the hearth. It was blatant reminder of the events of the night which struck so much terror into her heart.

"What was that? At the fire?" After a long time of deathly silence, it seemed he couldn't take it anymore. He whirled around, his fur coat flying behind him, as he took a long step and came to stand right up close to her. She took a step back but he took her by the shoulders and held her in place. "Don't avoid me, Kyra."

"You know the answer," she snapped angrily. "You know what you saw." She tried in vain to break free, but his grip only tightened.

"Who are you, really?" He demanded, his bright blue-grey orbs boring into my own.

"Isn't it obvious?" She sighed in defeat. _This is it. This is the end of my "secret". _"I'm a Targaryen." She lowered her eyes as the truth spilled forth. As soon as it was in the air, she regrettably felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her chest. "Technically I'm a bastard, but it was rape. My mother di-"__

__"Explain to me." It wasn't a question, she could tell. There was no way of getting out of it._ _

__"My mother was tasked with protecting Lyanna Stark, your aunt." Kyra told him in a low, dismal tone. "In the War of the Trident. She was..." She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. "She was raped by Rhaegar Targaryen. And... Then he didn't kill her. He let her live on, with the pain of the scar he gave her and the bastard child she had to bear."_ _

__It was a long, tense time before Robb said anything, but his hands were still clamped like vices onto her shoulders. "Kyra. Why didn't you tell me?"_ _

__"It was one of my mother's last requests, to keep it secret. Please... don't tell anyone. Not even your mother. I can't..." Her voice dropped and she let venomous malice seep into her voice, a burning loathing in her heart. "I hate the Targaryens. All of them. I don't want to be a bastard. I'm-"_ _

__"You aren't, not in our eyes." His voice was fiercely reassuring. "Look at me." He commanded, and her eyes instinctively flicked up to meet his. "You aren't. A bastard is a show of the parents' loss of honour. This was Rhaegar's loss of honour. Not your mother's. He is the one in the wrong."_ _

__"I know." She murmured, her eyes instinctively darting away from his and her head dropping. _I'm as good as dead, the way the world is now. Someone will find out after Robb, and then I'm a goner._ "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier." She told him honestly. She regretted letting herself go and allowing him to see, and not telling him, sparking this dismayed reaction from him and making him think she didn't trust him._ _

__Robb didn't answer, he simply stepped away. "Get some rest." He told her as he turned away, a hint of his protective concern in his voice. "No doubt the next few days will be busy."_ _

__Not another word was said between them as he swung open the door and left her there, as an odd sensation of coldness seeped into her from the loss of his touch._ _

__**~** _ _

__"What I'm about to tell you must remain between us." They were gathered in the godswood, beneath the weirwood and under the sight of the Gods. Kyra, from her position between Robb and her Lady Catelyn, could see the urgency in the Lady's Tully blue eyes. The heavy air of apprehension hung like a winged predator as the group awaited her words. "I don't think Bran fell from that tower." Her gaze examined each person briefly in a quick sweep of her eyes. "I think he was thrown."_ _

__"The boy was always sure-footed, before," Maester Luwin affirmed in a quiet murmur, his gaze on Ser Rodrik._ _

__"Someone tried to kill him twice." The outrage that was supposed to be an assassination attempt was not unknown to Winterfell. Kyra felt her rage bubbling just below the surface at the mention of the attempt. "Why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see."_ _

__"Saw what, Milady?" Theon asked. For once, he had the decency to remain serious._ _

__"I don't know. But I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved. We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown."_ _

__"Did you notice the dagger the killer used?" Ser Rodrik Cassel addressed the sheathed weapon in his hands. "It's too fine a weapon for such a man." Kyra's eyes fell on the fancy blade as he unsheathed it and examined it. "The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragonbone. Someone gave it to him." He pushed the dagger back into the sheath._ _

__"They come into our home... And try to murder my brother." Robb had been silent for the whole exchange, and he finally burst. "If it's war they want-"_ _

__"If it comes to that, you know I'll stand behind you." Theon promised._ _

__"And I." Kyra put in. She was about to continue when Maester Luwin cut in._ _

__"What, is there going to be a battle in the godswood? Huh?" Too quickly shame fell over the three at their impetuous words. "Too easily words of war become acts of war." He murmured before lifting his gaze to Lady Stark. "We don't know the truth yet. Lord Stark must be told of this."_ _

__Catelyn gave a small shake of her head. "I don't trust a raven to carry these words."_ _

__"I'll ride to King's Landing." Almost immediately Robb offered and Kyra felt her heart shudder. No, he can't do that._ _

__"No." Evidently Lady Catelyn shared her thoughts. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I will go myself."_ _

__"Mother, you can't-"_ _

__"Lady Catelyn, allow me to-"_ _

__Kyra and Robb spoke up at once, and her eyes met with his at their simultaneous protests. He quickly tore his gaze away, though, back to his mother._ _

__"I must." She addressed us both with her light yet intense blue gaze. Kyra suddenly realised where Robb had gotten his piercing gaze from. "Pandora, I know it is your duty to accompany me, but I wish you to stay. Two women alone on the Kingsroad is too dangerous."_ _

__"Let alone one," Kyra responded with wide eyes. "It's not safe."_ _

__"I'll send Howell with a squad of guardsmen to escort you." Ser Rodrik spoke up. Kyra felt ignored, but she couldn't help feeling a hint of relief that she had been ordered to stay._ _

__"Too large a party attracts unwanted attention." Catelyn pointed out. "I don't want the Lannisters to know I'm coming."_ _

__"Let me accompany you, at least." Rodrik asked. Catelyn's eyes flicked to Maester Luwin and the maester gave a nod which Catelyn then repeated to Ser Rodrik. "As Lady Pandora said, the Kingsroad can be a dangerous place for a woman alone."_ _

__"My Lady," Kyra spoke up slowly. "I would feel guilty were I to stay. As you said, this is my duty to protect -and fight alongside the Stark family."_ _

__"Then stay, and protect my sons." Catelyn asked of me gently, a sadness coming to her eyes at the mention of Bran._ _

__"Speaking of which..." Kyra pressed her lips together and was about to respond when Robb finished for her._ _

__"What about Bran?" His eyes were wide, as if he feared her leaving._ _

__"I have prayed to the Seven for more than a month. Bran's life is in their hands now." The godswood fell silent and there was a silent, unanimous dismissal of the group._ _

__As everyone dispersed and Kyra found her natural place with Robb and Theon, she found the two to be very silent. Which was not normal for those two._ _

__"So, you'll truly be the Lord of Winterfell now." Kyra told him with a small reassuring smile on her face. "With both the Lady and the Lord of Stark away."_ _

__He only responded with a small mumble as they traipsed back to the keep._ _

__She guessed he was afraid of all this responsibility suddenly being left up to him. She cast him a sympathetic side glance as they entered the keep._ _

__"You'll be on your way soon, won't you?" Theon said. "Isn't your 16th name day coming soon?"_ _

__"Indeed." Kyra felt a sudden flash of anguish. _I'll have to leave Winterfell in a month._ But she hid her sadness cleverly._ _

__"First my brothers, then my parents and now you." Robb mumbled as he sat down at the table in the great hall. "Everyone's leaving."_ _

__"Firstly, Bran's not gone. Secondly..." Her words trailed off and she found herself staring at the grainy wood table. _I don't want to leave, either. But it's expected of me.__ _

__They fell silent as her undoubtable silence made itself clear. She straightened up and tried for a smile, which failed miserably. "Well, I'm going to go say farewell to Lady Stark. Cheer up, you two." She climbed to her feet again and exited the great hall._ _

__It wasn't long before the scuffle of footsteps followed her and her stride didn't falter as the boys fell into step with her. It was completely silent, the air riddled with despondence. She found the sad silence bogging her down as she caught sight of Lady Stark and Ser Rodrik at the stables._ _

__Kyra quickened her step towards the two adults and stood before them, her eyes trained at their feet as they finished saddling up their horses. Lady Catelyn's eyes were devoid of life and Kyra found herself sympathising deeply. Not so long ago, that was me. Ser Rodrik's gaze turned to her and he dipped his head. "Lady Pandora."_ _

__"I am no Lady, ser, but you flatter me." She responded respectfully. "I've come to say my farewells."_ _

__Catelyn turned to her and promptly embraced her, rather unbecoming for a Lady. But Kyra didn't mind in the slightest as she squeezed the mourning mother in reassurance._ _

__"Take care of them," her voice was choked up. "Take care of my boys. The Gods know what they'd do without you here."_ _

__"I will, my Lady." Kyra answered softly. "I'll be sure to send news when you are safely away from King's Landing."_ _

__"Thank you." They pulled apart and despite her initial objections to her hate of Jon, she felt a new bond starting to form between them. She said a quick farewell to Ser Rodrik and waited for Theon as he said his own goodbyes, so they could give Robb some time relatively alone with his mother._ _

__As Kyra brushed past Robb on her way back to the great hall, she gave him a reassuring smile. There was so much she wanted to say to him; it'll be okay, you will live up to the role of the Lord of Winterfell perfectly, don't worry for your parents or siblings. Everything will be okay. She hoped her words were conveyed in the brief few seconds their eyes locked for before she passed him._ _

__Theon was silent beside her as they entered the great hall. Without saying a word she kept walking alone towards her room, despite the fact that it was almost time for lunch. She didn't feel hungry at all._ _

__She found with delight that her bath had been drawn for her as soon as she entered her room. The accumulated steam rushed out into the corridor as soon as she opened the door and the windows were fogged. She quickly disrobed as she rushed to the bathroom, eager to sink into her little slice of heaven and stay there for a thousand years._ _

__**~** _ _

__She hadn't realised she had fallen asleep until she noticed the moon beginning to rise through the thin curtains over the bathroom window. The previously steaming hot water had cooled around her and she shivered, the cold air brushing against her wet skin. She leapt out of the bath and grabbed a towel, drying off her skin briefly and wrapping the towel around her before opening the door to the main room._ _

__Kyra was immediately met with the burning, intense blue gaze of Robb Stark as she entered the room. He was sitting on the chair beside her vanity table, his hands clasped and staring at the floor. At her entry, he lifted his eyes to her improperly clothed form and his practically lifeless gaze didn't waver. "Kyra," he murmured in greeting, simply averting his eyes._ _

__"By the Gods, Robb!" She exclaimed, fumbling hurriedly for her cloak and pulling it tight around her. "How long have you been waiting?"_ _

__"Not long. I figured you were in there." He gestured towards the closed bathroom door with his eyes before his gaze returned to the floor._ _

__"What do you need?" _Be still my beating heart, damn it._ Her heart thumped in her chest, so loud she feared he may hear it. She sat in front of the burning hearth, facing it with her back so her hair might dry._ _

__"Nothing. I just wanted to be in your company." His face was completely calm, but his eyes betrayed his inner stress and her expression softened._ _

__"Ah. I see." She knew his feelings. Being in the company of a friend in a time of strife often helped alleviate the distress. "Is this about what I think it is?"_ _

__He simply raised his eyes to her with a hint of questioning in his steel blue eyes._ _

__She let out a small sigh and climbed to her feet, refastening a button on her cloak. She came to stand behind the chair, placing her hands on the shoulders of it. "Robb, you were born to lead. I've seen it in you a thousand times, by now. You shouldn't doubt yourself so much. Even if you do find yourself doubting your abilities, or a decision you're going to make, Theon and I are always here to counsel you."_ _

__He slowly turned to gaze at her over his shoulder and in silence, she held his gaze steadily. She felt his bright blue eyes boring into her soul, the light of the moon giving a new glow to his eyes that she'd never noticed before. She felt a burst of affection for him; her best friend, her liege. And she was his rock._ _

__Their tender moment was brusquely cut off as a loud knock on her door cut through the silent air like it was severing a cord. She stirred to life and her feet forced themselves to move as she approached the door. Just as her hand touched the handle, the door burst open to reveal Theon._ _

__"Quickly, come with me. It's Bran." Robb immediately burst to life and pushed back the chair, rushing forward._ _

__"What is it?" He demanded, but Theon just turned and walked away. Robb shared a hasty glance with Kyra and for a moment, she didn't even care that she was only wearing her cloak and a towel. As Robb rushed out after Theon, Kyra quickly followed him, the cold air biting into her bare skin._ _

__She pulled the cloak tighter around her as she ran up the stairs to Bran's room. She knew he'd woken, she just knew it; he couldn't die, he wouldn't. He was too strong. The door flew open and when she saw the brown eyes of the crippled boy widen at their sudden entrance, she felt tears welling in her eyes._ _

__"Oh, Bran!" She rushed forward and threw her arms around the little boy. "You're okay! I knew you would be, I just knew it."_ _

__"I can't feel my legs," he whispered. "How did this happen?"_ _

__Kyra pulled away, concerned. "Don't you remember what happened?"_ _

__"No... Maester Luwin says I fell from the broken tower." Bran said, his chocolate brown eyes shining with sadness. "I can't feel my legs, though. What does that mean?"_ _

__Kyra cast a furtive glance at Robb. _I can't tell him._ "We can't be sure yet," she told him, grasping his hand before breaking away from him._ _

__Robb came and stood on the other side of the bed, gazing at his little brother before wrapping him in a hug. "We were so worried about you," she only just heard his whisper. "I'm so glad you're safe._ _

__"Strong lad, you are," Theon said brightly. "It's not easy to live through falling off a tower." The three shared a secret glance, remembering Catelyn's theory and the reason she rode off to King's Landing._ _

__"We must send word to Father," Robb turned to face Theon._ _

__"There is a time for everything," Kyra intervened gently, her eyes meeting his. "Don't be so hasty." He held her gaze squarely for a few moments before backing down and giving a nod, turning back to Bran._ _

__"How do you feel?" Robb asked, his voice taking on a gentle light._ _

__"... Numb." Bran murmured slowly. "A bit hungry, too."_ _

__"Alright. I'll have someone make you a big dinner, then." Robb told him, smiling and squeezing his hand. "Look at this," Robb gently reached up to a large, wood and straw ornament hanging above his bed. "Mother made this for you."_ _

__"Where is Mother? I want to see her." Bran said softly, his eyes trained on the ornament. Kyra bit the inside of her cheek as the air became tainted with unease._ _

__"Your mother had to ride to King's Landing." Maester Luwin worded out slowly, saving the rest of them the trouble of breaking it to him. "She will be gone for two months, to be sure."_ _

__"Why?" When Bran didn't get an answer, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Why did she leave?"_ _

__"Important business." Robb told him quietly, sitting down on the edge of his bed._ _

__"What important business?" Bran enquired. He was definitely displeased. When the room fell silent again, he huffed. "Why won't you tell me?"_ _

__"It's... very serious, Bran. You must understand that it's not something easily shared." Kyra tested the waters tentatively. "But enough of that, you must be hungry. As Robb said, you need something to eat." She cast a furtive side glance at Robb and he caught it, turning to Maester Luwin._ _

__"Stay here with him. I'll come back." He told the two of them as he turned and walked past Kyra and Theon, towards the door. Wordlessly they followed him out into the corridor._ _

__No one spoke while they walked. Kyra felt compelled to hold her silence, so she didn't try to lighten the damp mood. She waited with Theon beside the door of the kitchens as Robb approached a scullery maid and gave her orders. She gave a meek nod and turned to rush to her superior._ _

__"You two can go now if you wish." Robb told us quietly as he walked past us. Theon nodded and immediately set off but Kyra felt glued to the ground as she watched him leave. He was so... kingly. It was appalling, to see him change so quickly from the smiling boy who loved to joke around and go for rides in the forest with his brother and best friends to the Lord of Winterfell, stoic and regal even down to the way he strode. And for a moment, just a moment, she felt compelled to follow him, take his hand in her own and tell him that everything would be okay._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

Two weeks had passed since Bran had woken, and while life in Winterfell was flourishing around her, she felt an empty kind of loss inside her, constantly brewing. For that very day was her 16th name day.

_Happy name day to me,_ Kyra thought blankly as she sluggishly began to gather up the numerous items scattered around the room. She wasn't going to leave it a mess, and she planned to leave at midnight. Where she would go next, she didn't know. There was no other place she belonged in this wide, cold and malicious world.

_Perhaps I could fake that I'm a man, go join Jon in the Night's Watch._ The absurdly amusing thought only served to make her smirk with not much mirth. The idea was actually kind of appealing, in a strange way.

The sun had already begun to sink towards the horizon. Evening was almost upon her, which didn't leave her much time to say her silent goodbyes. She didn't plan on having any ceremonious farewells, or to even have anyone aware of her leaving. It was so much easier to pretend she didn't care; to block any thoughts of the place and the people she had begun to grow so close to so she might forget.

But she knew she could never forget. Winterfell and its leading family had become her own. These freezing cold walls were her home, and the Starks her family. No, she wouldn't forget their kindness, and certainly not the relationship she'd forged with this cold land's new Lord.

He seemed to be holding up well under this new-found responsibility. He hadn't ceased to amaze her, the way he had so quickly grown to fit his father's shoes in his absence. Her hands stilled at the thought of leaving him. She had sworn himself to the family's duty. It felt so wrong to leave now, but then again, hadn't the agreement only been until she was 16?

There was a knock at the door. Quickly she started to life and turned to open it. Almost as if she'd summoned him with her thoughts, Robb was standing in the threshold. "There's been a raven from King's Landing," he told her. "Father's arrived safely, so has Arya and Sansa. There's no word of Mother." Yet there was still a certain look of slight apprehension on his face.

"Let me see." Kyra asked, his expression not escaping her notice. He held out the rolled up parchment to her and she took it gently, unrolling it and reading the words on it.

_We have arrived soundly in King's Landing, and already mishaps have occurred. The Baratheon boy, Joffrey, claimed he was attacked by a direwolf. Arya's wolf went missing, so I was commanded to kill Sansa's instead. A terrible happening, to be sure. By the Gods, I wish you were here with me, Catelyn. The boys and Pandora, too. I would rest easier if you were._

_Tell Robb I hope he's doing well. I hope to hear good things from Winterfell's new Lord in no time._

_And tell Bran that his waking is a miracle, and the Gods are smiling upon him._

_Tell the whole family that I miss them, and I love them._

At the bottom, Ned Stark's signature was inscribed. "He's a man of few words, he is," she rolled the letter back up and handed it back to him. "I knew that Joffrey was trouble. I have no doubt that even if he is telling the truth about being attacked, it was because the wolves can smell the danger on him."

"Mmm. I agree." Robb nodded and took the parchment back. Suddenly his eyes trained on something behind Kyra and he frowned. "What's all that?"

_Gods damn it._ She mentally punched herself in the face for forgetting to hide the mess of clothing and random items she'd retrieved from the floor off her bed. "What's what?" She feinted innocence, giving a gentle frown of her own as he walked past her to the bed and stared at the mess. She hurried up beside him and his gaze turned to the leather pack laying on the floor.

It would be her doom that he was intelligent. He whirled around and unceremoniously lifted her cloak to see she had her leathers on and her weapons in their sheathes. "Kyra... Where are you going?"

"Nowhere." Kyra felt her heart sink. So much for leaving relatively easily. It would be so much harder now that he suspected.

She lifted her gaze as his vivid, piercing blue eyes examined her own, and suddenly his eyes widened with realisation. "You're leaving," he whispered.

Kyra couldn't lie to him as easily as she could lie to anyone else. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "I have to. It's... It's the rules of the arrangement I have with your parents."

"When did they say you were required to leave now?" He demanded, his tone growing ever more urgent and upset. He took her by the shoulders and continued before she could answer. "They didn't. Why won't you stay?"

"I'm..." It took a while for her to formulate the words as her eyes desperately sought out anything except Robb's burning eyes. "I'm eating your food, sleeping in your beds... I feel like I don't belong." Now that was a complete lie. Well, half of one. True enough, she was staying there, but it was the complete opposite of the truth to say she felt like she didn't belong.

"Look at me when I speak to you." At the slightly scary commanding tone in his voice, her gaze snapped up to meet his intense steel coloured one, which bore into her very soul. At her meek visage, his expression softened. "You know that's a lie. You belong here, Kyra. Drinking with Theon and I, hunting with us, and being a mother to Bran in our true mother's absence. You belong here, by our side through it all, no matter whether we're fighting or at a feast. If you stay with me, I'll stay with you. When we're fighting our way through hordes of enemies, be it Lannisters or wildlings, you can count on the fact that I'll be there."

Her heart burst with an odd sort of pride. This was her best friend... This was the man he'd become. He had found his way close to her hardened heart, and she felt it's armour slowly beginning to fall away. Before, she thought this would have been a dangerous thing for someone to finally crack the hard shell around her. But now... Now she wasn't so sure.

"So, what'll you say?" His gentle words stirred her back to the present and she gazed up at him. She felt a lump rising in her throat as she nodded and a smile spread onto her face.

"I'll stay with you. Gods, that's all I want to do." She felt a massive weight lift off her chest as she finally admitted her yearning to stay. "I never wanted to leave Winterfell behind. All this... It's my home now."

He smiled joyously, reflecting her own smile, and suddenly wrapped his arms around her. It was a split second before her body reacted and tightened her arms around him, a while before her mind caught up. She suddenly had a fiery urge to... She didn't even know what she wanted to do. Just sit there, in his arms, and feel a true part of the family for once. But it felt like that wasn't enough.

Just as her mind started to catch up with her heart, he pulled away and his warmth leaving her was like a trample to the face from a horse. She blinked and gazed at him while he smiled like he just couldn't keep it in. He looked like the boy she had once known, which was a strange but not completely unwelcome change from what she'd been seeing for just over a month. "Come on. We should go announce it to the others."

"Announce what, that I'm staying?" Kyra asked, bewildered. "They never even knew I was leaving."

"I know that, but isn't it your 16th name day?" Without waiting for her, he walked past her and out into the corridor. "You deserve some kind of revelry."

Before she could protest, he was striding down the stairs, and it was all she could do to huff and follow him grudgingly.

Theon, Bran, Rickon and Hodor, a huge stable boy that was now Bran's little pack-horse, were sitting at the table, supping silently. When Robb entered with a strange air of joy about him, everyone looked up.

"Guess who's 16th name day it is." He told them with a smirk, turning to present Kyra standing behind him. Immediately Theon stood and Kyra could hear his words in her head before he even said them.

"Right, who's giving her the honour of bedding her?" He announced more than asked, exchanging a cheeky look with Robb. From behind him, Kyra couldn't see his reaction. She sure wish she had, because Theon suddenly shut up and sat down meekly. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing and rolled her eyes.

"I won't be getting bedded by anyone, thank you. It's not a tradition to have your first on your name day." Bran's gaze was fixed awkwardly on his plate and Rickon was looking around innocently, while Hodor just didn't get it. "Anyway, this isn't fit table talk, especially around young ones. I'm keen on a tankard of ale to celebrate, thanks." She strode past Robb and sat down beside Hodor. "An ale, please." She turned her gaze to the serving wench who nodded meekly and rushed off.

As she fixated her gaze on the food she had been served, she caught a glimpse of Theon looking up at Robb. She didn't bother to follow their gaze, yet a slight curiosity tweaked in her as Theon stood and Robb said, "I've lost my appetite. I'll see you all some other time." As he turned and exited the room, Theon followed him out.

She didn't dwell on it for long, as her ale arrived. She sipped at it eagerly as she munched her dinner. Once she had finished, she cast a look out the window at the descending sun. It would be sunset within the hour. She decided to get back to her room and spend the rest of her night in peace.

As she entered her room and picked up her book, she sighed in bliss. _What a wonderful way to spend my name day. Little did she know, relaxing and reading wouldn't be the last thing she did to celebrate._

**~**

The sun had been out of sight for at least an hour before some insolent pest came knocking at her door. Her attention was rudely ripped from her book and she death glared the door before grudgingly swinging her legs off the bed and opening it.

It was Robb, for the second time that day. Her resentment softened, yet she was still a little exasperated that he'd interrupted her alone time.

Without saying a word he entered the room, walking past her and pushing the door shut behind him. "You in your night clothes already?" He noted the fur-lined cotton she wore. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "Go on, go get into your leathers."

"Why?" Kyra's eyebrows furrowed. He didn't answer and simply turned away to sit in her armchair. She huffed and reluctantly pulled away to change into her favourite black, skintight leather trousers and her jerkin, which she covered with her cloak. Once she was done, she emerged from the bathroom where she had chosen to change and returned to him. "Now what? Tell me what's going on."

"You'll see." Robb stood and turned to exit the room. Kyra felt lost to every choice except to follow him, so she did.

The two emerged into the courtyard, and what she found there was truly beautiful. The courtyard was lit with little stained glass lanterns, which cast flickering coloured light onto the grey stone walls and cobblestone paths. Lining the paths were the same lanterns, outlining out a clear path towards the edge of the courtyard.

Beneath a tree which sat a few metres from the wall there were two separate tables, between the towering leaves and the grey stones. At one table sat Theon and Elvira, and at the other sat Bran, Hodor and Rickon. On the tables were several jugs; no doubt at least one of them was filled with some alcoholic beverage, the other with juice for the children. Kyra felt a bright, endearing smile spread across her lips as she looked up at Robb, who met her gaze with a smile of his own.

"Oh, you really didn't have to." She told him as she sat down next to Elvira and smiled at the maid happily.

"It's your name day. You helped Lord Robb's become such a great night, now it's our turn." Elvira told her in Robb's stead as he sat down beside Theon, directly across from Kyra.

"Well, don't just sit there. Bottoms up!" Theon announced cheerfully, pouring her a mug of some swirling brown ale. "It's good you're staying here for a while longer. Things would have been very different without you."

"Oh, how would you cope?" Kyra jibed with a small chuckle, accepting the tankard with vigour and taking a sip.

"Then let's make a toast." Robb stood, holding his own mug with his eyes locked on Kyra's. "To Pandora's 16th name day, and to her staying with us." Fervidly Bran and Rickon lifted their little cups of juice and stretched across the table, while Hodor sat there looking kind of... lost. Elvira smiled and lifted her glass of wine, along with Theon, and Kyra felt a burst of adoration for her friends. She knew that they would stay as tightly knit as this for the years to come; there was no breaking this tough bond.

Then Kyra lifted her own mug. "I'll drink to that." The others echoed Robb's words as the wooden flagons clunked together in a toast. There was silence for a few moments afterwards, when everyone took a swig of their beverages.

It was a relatively cheery next half hour. It was a welcome change to have another female presence at the table besides herself. It wasn't long before Robb instructed Hodor to take the boys to bed; it was getting late and they had long since finished their juice. Kyra thanked the little Stark boys and said goodnight to them before the huge stable boy carried Bran and escorted Rickon back to their own quarters.

The moment the kids were gone, Theon leaned forward. "So, Pandora," a lecherous smirk came to his face. "You've reached your 16th year. You're finally a woman."

_Dear Gods._ She knew what was coming next as well as Robb did (Elvira, not so much; she sat quietly and innocently), as he rolled his eyes as he tipped his head back, swallowing his ale.

"I said it before, I'll say it again," he told her. "You need to find yourself a bit of cock."

"Gods above, Theon." Kyra exclaimed, massaging her temples exasperatedly. "I think you need to start living full time at a brothel."

"I don't mind the idea of that," he chuckled, pouring himself another drink.

"Of course you don't. Some of us have honour," Robb muttered under his breath. His remark didn't escape Kyra, and she barely managed to stop herself from chuckling into her ale conspicuously.

The night went rather smoothly, with much alcohol consumed and a drunk Elvira made her appearance, which was rather entertaining. It wasn't long before she stumbled off to her quarters, fending off any assistance from Kyra and leaving her with the boys.

"She's a pretty young lass," Theon remarked. Before he could continue, Kyra turned her death-cold glare onto the Greyjoy and he sufficiently shut up, turning his attention back to finishing his last mug of ale.

Kyra, having already finished hers, sat back in her seat and stared up at the surprisingly clear night sky. Stars twinkled radiantly against the backdrop of pure black, and the massive full moon filled the sky with its glow. What a beautiful night to coincide with her name day.

Overwhelmed by a nostalgic sense of gratitude, she said to Robb and Theon without turning her gaze to them. "Thank you for this. I'm so pleased you went to all this trouble for me."

"It's not a trouble, Milady." Theon answered brightly.

"You've been here for the most part of a year now." Robb told her. "It's the least we could do."

"Thank you all the same, though." She smiled softly. "I haven't had anyone do something so kind before." When a short yet tense silence followed, she climbed to her feet. "I'm going to take my leave, too. Goodnight."

The boys echoed the farewell as she stepped out from the bench and turned, swiftly making for the tower where her quarters were. But as she went, she couldn't escape the gaze that burned into her back like dragonfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I died but I'm back! Sorry for the delay, and sorry for the terrible filler chapter lol.
> 
> Please leave a review! I'll update much faster if you do!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Kyra, her mother and the house her mother hails from. All the rest belongs to George Martin and the directors of the TV rendition of the books. Any infringement or similarities to any other OCs belonging to other people or characters of the show/book series is not intended in any way.

"I had a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit."

"Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell." No doubt he was thinking of Jon, wishing he had been with the party. Kyra could sympathise.

The lesser hall had been styled to fit an assembly of a few men of the Night's Watch and a small council. But what Kyra didn't expect was for the Imp to be accompanying them.

"Any man of the Night's Watch, but not I, eh boy?" Tyrion's voice had a tinge of bitter humour, although it was barely noticeable. From Kyra's position seated beside Robb, she could see that the dwarf was actually not much shorter than she. _How sad._ She thought bitterly to herself with a small huff of laughter.

"I'm not your boy, Lannister. I'm Lord of Winterfell while my father is away." Robb answered defiantly, holding Tyrion Lannister's gaze with his own sharp blue eyes.

The Imp waited for Robb to finish and raised his eyebrows slightly. "You might learn a Lord's courtesy." Robb narrowed his eyes and stared at Tyrion before the clanging of an opening door signalled the entrance of another person. Or two people, so it would seem, as Hodor came chuffing in with Bran in his arms. Tyrion turned to gaze at the crippled boy with wide eyes. "So it's true..." Hodor came and stood beside Tyrion. "Hello, Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?

"He has no memory of that day." Maester Luwin broke in.

"Curious." Tyrion murmured.

"Why are you here?" Robb interrupted, his distrust of the dwarf both understandable and palpable.

He found himself ignored, though, when Tyrion's only reply was a small side glance. He turned back to Bran. "Would your charming companion be so kind as to kneel? My neck is beginning to hurt."

"Kneel, Hodor." Bran told Hodor, his eyes on Tyrion. It seemed that he shared an ounce of Robb's misgivings.

"Do you like to ride, Bran?" Tyrion asked once the boy's eyes were level with his.

"Yes. Well, I mean, I did like to." Bran answered bitterly, his tone ringing with remorse. Kyra pressed her lips together. She knew how much he loved to ride, before he was paralysed.

"The boy has lost the use of his legs." Maester Luwin told Tyrion as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Tyrion disregarded his statement loosely. "What of it? With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride."

"I'm not a cripple." Bran protested mildly.

"And I'm not a dwarf! My father will rejoice to hear it." Tyrion gaped and looked down at his feet before looking back up. "I have a gift for you." He drew a rolled up piece of parchment out of his cloak. "Give that to your saddler, he'll provide the rest." As Bran unrolled the paper and gazed at it, Hodor peered over his shoulder mutely at it. Tyrion turned back to face Robb. "You must shape the horse to the rider. Start with a yearling, teach it to respond to the reins and the boy's voice."

"Will I really be able to ride?" Bran asked softly, peering up at Tyrion as a newfound ounce of fondness found its way into his voice.

"You will. On horseback, you'll be as tall as any of them." Tyrion gave a small smile to the boy.

"Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?" As Robb blatantly refused the idea that the Lannister bore any goodwill towards him. Kyra gave him a furtive side glance and hoped he noticed the eye roll she gave him.

"I've a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things." Tyrion answered as Bran rolled the paper up again and beamed at him. The Imp responded with a small smile of his own.

"You've done my brother a kindness." Robb said begrudgingly. "The hospitality of Winterfell is yours-"

"Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There, I'll find a bed, and both of us can sleep easier." Tyrion deflected, whirling around and striding promptly towards the door.

Once he was safely outdoors, Robb noticeably loosened and turned his gaze to the brothers of the Night's Watch. "You have a safe place to sleep and good food tonight. Please, make yourselves at home."

"Our thanks to you, Milord Stark." One of the brothers, donned fully in black, stepped forward and bowed deeply. "We will certainly take you up on that offer, even if the Lannister won't."

"Good." Robb managed a small welcoming smile before raking his gaze over the other small party gathered in the hall. "Then if there are no more matters to discuss, then you are all dismissed."

Quickly the meagre crowd dispersed and left to go do whatever Winterfell dwellers did with their day, and the men of the Night's Watch no doubt to sit by a hearth and actually feel warmth for once, leaving Kyra with Robb and Maester Luwin.

The maester pushed his chair back and with a tiny bow of the head to Robb, he also made his leave. Robb turned to Kyra and she saw the exhaustion in his eyes. "By the Gods."

"The Lannister is a colourful character, isn't he?" Kyra remarked with a smirk. "Funny."

"He's no friend of ours, Kyra. Don't you forget that." Robb warned. She sighed and rolled her eyes, pushing her chair back.

"Of course, I'll never forget that. Doesn't mean that I have to hate him every moment that we're not at war with him." Without turning back she began towards the door. "Not like that's going to happen, anyway." She reached for the door handle and as she was walking out of the door, she turned and looked over her shoulder. "Nicely done today, by the way. Very leader-like."

"I'm glad you think so." She shared a warm smile with him before she exited the hall and came face to face with none other than the Imp.

"Thought you were going to a brothel," she remarked, almost forgetting her courtesies. "My Lord."

"Don't bother me with that Lord nonsense." He deflected before his gaze grew sharp. "And who are you supposed to be?"

"Pandora Tyrnea." She answered slowly, his sudden change of attitude not escaping her.

"Ah, a southerner." Tyrion obviously knew her house well. "What are you doing all the way up here with the Starks?"

"My mother died and sent me here." She said bluntly and coldly as she glared at the ground to avoid glaring at him.

"No need to burn holes in the ground. I'm not that short." Tyrion quipped, and Kyra's eyes snapped back up. "You accompany Lord Stark." He remarked.

"What business is that of yours?" Kyra questioned, crossing her arms.

"I'm simply making conversation. Humour an imp for a few minutes." It seemed that wasn't all there was to it, but he wasn't giving anything away.

Hesitantly, Kyra let her guard slip slightly. "I'm a friend of House Stark. I accompany them, protect them if they need it. And I used to teach Bran to shoot a bow and fight with a sword, but..." Her voice trailed off as she was overwhelmed by her sympathy and grief for the boy.

"Now not so much." Tyrion murmured before his green gaze narrowed and grew sharper. "I'm going to give you a good piece of advice you'll keep for life." He paused slightly and Kyra blanked. _What...?_ He seemed almost malicious now. "Don't fall for the Stark boy. He's like to marry a princess maiden in a profitable house, not a lowborn girl."

"I beg your pardon?" Kyra backed away, her eyes widening with vexation. _How dare he..._ "How preposterous! Why would you imply that-"

"I see the look in your eyes when you speak to him, Lady Tyrnea. I'm giving you the truth, whether or not you wish to hear it. Your house is dead. It's long gone, with no male heirs. Why, he might even marry my little niece Myrcella, for all her worth. Might even be King some day." Tyrion gave a chuff of laughter. "I'd advise not making choices you'll regret."

"And what do you know about regret?" Kyra snapped, forgetting the respect that the Lannister needed and openly snapping. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she could feel her rage seeping out of them.

"Certainly more than you." Tyrion's gaze cleared as he took happier spirits, yet Kyra couldn't shake her feeling of outrage with a hint of doubt. "Well, I do hope to see you again. You seem quite a lovely lady." She could almost taste the sarcasm in his words. "Good day." As he finished saddling up his horse, which was probably for travelling to the brothel, she bit back her cutting remarks and turned, whirling back inside the lesser hall and bumping into Theon on the way in.

"Have words for that imp?" She snapped. She immediately regretted her words, but she knew her temper was something to behold. Theon noticeably recoiled and stepped past her, not answering her question.

She entered the lesser hall to find that the serving girls were rearranging it. Although Kyra searched in the crowd for Elvira, the brunette was nowhere to be found. Pressing her lips together, Kyra continued on towards the back exit of the hall.

She exited again, though this time closer to the living quarters. However, she didn't want to be cooped up in her room. _Where in the seven hells is Robb?_ She wondered exasperatedly. Surely he hadn't rushed off to take up another lordly task so soon after holding council. _I'll leave a message for him, in his chambers._ She entered the tower where his chambers were and jogged up the stairs towards where she knew his room laid. She found the door unlocked and after a quick search of his desk, found an unused piece of parchment. She left a few words on it, speaking of her plans and then raced back down towards the stables.

Kyra passed the inner ward on the way and grabbed her bow and quiver to equip them. Her daggers were already on her person. She quickly saddled up her horse with a quick word of greetings to the saddler, who had already begun working on Bran's saddle, and without delay rode her horse out of the gates of Winterfell.

**~**

It was nearing sundown and Robb hadn't seen Kyra all day; not since the council. Neither had Theon, he had soon discovered, along with the fact that both the Greyjoy and Kyra spoke ill of the Imp. His mother's words rang in his head, from just before she left. _We cannot trust the Lannisters. They mean nothing but trouble._ He affirmed in his head.

But he couldn't help but worry. Winterfell wasn't ginormous; it would be easy to see the same commoner thrice in one day, let alone his best friend. But there wasn't a peep of her.

It wasn't just worrying. Robb found himself not able to get her whereabouts off his mind.

"Oh, gods be good." He muttered, finally trudging up the stairs to his room for the first time that day since waking. "I'll have to go search for her."

He entered his room, pushing the door shut behind him, and he went to go change into his riding jerkin when he saw a messily written piece of parchment laying on his bed. He frowned and picked it up, unfolding it and reading the words.

_I've gone out to hunt for a while. Don't wait up for me._

_If I'm not back by supper, don't worry either. I'll bring back something for Grey Wind._

He didn't need a signature to know who it was from. _So she's alright._ He tried to reason with himself with the knowledge that she intended to be out late, but he couldn't help but keep that one ounce of doubt inside himself. The woods were more dangerous than usual of late.

He wondered about Grey Wind for a few moments. His wolf was a loyal creature, and strong. But he usually wandered, as direwolves do. Perhaps he was with her, keeping her safe.

As he exited his chambers to find the direwolf sitting diligently by his door, that possibility was nullified.

Robb stopped beside his grey wolf and ruffled his thick, warm pelt with his hands. He entangled his fingers in the fur and found that Grey Wind enjoyed that. A small hint of a smile tugged at his lips and he retracted his hand, turning to descend the staircase. "Come, Grey Wind." The clattering of paws on cobble followed as they exited the tower.

The sky was an array of vibrant colours when he came outside, the ribbons of red, orange, violet and blue a beautiful backdrop for the blindingly brilliant sun. For a few moments he stopped on the threshold of the stone tower and gazed at the sky. But the moment was somewhat empty.

_I'd love to share it with Kyra._ He realised, the revelation proving quite random as he frowned. He was about to ask himself where that came from when he saw a familiar cloak whirling as someone entered the gates, only to make for the godswood with haste. He smirked, knowing only one person who kept themselves cloaked while inside the gates.

Silently he followed her into the great copse, Grey Wind stalking behind him. She pulled her hood away from her face and her demeanour noticeably loosened up. Surprisingly, perceptive Kyra wasn't aware of his presence. Though he found she wouldn't be for long, for as soon as she took a few more steps, she stopped and stiffened again. He noticed her hand slip beneath her cloak, and his hand went to grab Grey Wind to stop the direwolf from instinctively attacking her. "Calm down, its just me." He called out, and she whirled around with a sigh.

"Don't sneak up on me like that." She scolded, rolling her brilliant violet eyes.

"I wasn't aware that you could be sneaked up on." He jested. Usually she silently paraded in the fact that she was practically immune to any other people trying to sneak or watch her, and he knew that. She glared at him and put her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, well..." Kyra noticeably struggled for a quip to come back with, and she faltered. "I've got nothing. Whatever."

He chuckled and came into step with her, Grey Wind diligently following. The direwolf had his eyes on Kyra, imploring at her silently. She noticed his puppy-dog gaze and rolled her eyes with a small laugh. "Oh, you can probably smell it." From a hidden location on her person she produced her game bag and pulled out a fully grown rabbit. She tossed it to him and he snapped it up hungrily with his sharp jaws, turning to trot off contently and munch on his little treat.

Kyra began walking again, and Robb stayed by her side. The weirwood towered over them, the crimson leaves dappling the floor in the signs of autumn. She sat on a root of the great tree and her eyes stared silently at the ground. Robb felt she needed her space, but he couldn't find it in himself to leave her. So instead he just walked to the pond and stared into it at his reflection.

_Is this what I've become?_ He didn't see the mirthful boy he used to be. Instead he saw a man. A Lord, with hardened eyes and a bearded jaw. He found it not even long enough to be a beard yet, but it was all the same. His cheekbones seemed higher, his jaw more set. But he wasn't sure if that was what anyone else saw.

He turned away from the pond. He didn't want to look at himself any longer; change was something he didn't enjoy to go through, and he missed the days of joyful hunting and drinking with Kyra, Jon and Theon more than ever before.

"Do you keep the old Gods, like your father?" Kyra's soft voice inquired as she looked up at him. He stirred back to life and gazed at her silently before nodding. "I keep them, too. They were never there in the South, because they cut all the weirwoods down, but..." She paused. "The Seven never kept me safe, like everyone says they do. Besides, I feel more at home here than I ever did in a sept."

"What about your mother?" Robb asked cautiously. He was curious, but he didn't want to make her grieve at the thought of her mother.

"I'm not sure. I don't think she followed the new Gods, because whenever I tried to speak to her at a sept it never felt like she answered. But here, it feels like she does."

He should have thought she was mad. The Gods never answer, let alone the deceased. But he found her words making sense to him.

"I miss her a lot," her voice dropped and she avoided his gaze. "But I don't feel so sad anymore. Of course, every time I think of her I feel so upset, but its not as bad now."

She was so strong. And beautiful, Robb noticed. He felt so lucky to have her, with all her strength and resplendence, both inner and outer. He only knew what it was like to be away from his family, not to have every family member dead.

"You're my new family." She stood quietly and came before him, looking up at him. "You, and Jon and I suppose Theon, if he weren't so lecherous and annoying. And Bran, Rickon, Sansa, Arya and your parents too."

"And I'm glad for that." Her black hair shone as the chilly sunlight fell dappled on the sleek tresses through the trees. A comfortable silence fell but she didn't move, and neither could he. He felt compelled to reach out and touch that dark hair which was always so clean and thick, or run his fingers over her smooth, pale skin.

But he didn't, and thousands of words were left unsaid and weighing down his tongue.

Grey Wind came trotting back, looking pleased and Kyra smiled. "He's getting bigger every day," she stepped past him to run her fingers through Grey Wind's fur. Robb was sure the direwolf liked her as much as he liked him, as the wolf nuzzled into her hand happily. "He's such a strong, dangerous creature. Yet look at him here, snuggling my hand." She chuckled and gave him a final pat before straightening up and turning to Robb. "I'm going back. Supper will be ready about now."

"I'll come soon." He promised. "Take Grey Wind with you."

"Sure. Grey Wind, come." The wolf turned as Kyra walked away, his ears pricking up as he loped after her.

It was silent in the godswood for a long time after that. Robb sat on the same root Kyra had been sitting on not long beforehand, and stared up at the scarlet leaves. One fell, and slowly cascaded down towards the floor in front of him.

And around him the wind whispered in his ears as he wondered, truly wondered, about what Kyra really meant to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These reviews make me so happy! Thank you guys so much :D


	15. Chapter 15

"Mother's captured the Imp?"

The news came in the early hours of the morning; a raven from the Eyrie, speaking of Tyrion Lannister's capture. But it was not given to Robb until just before supper.

"As it would seem, my Lord. Here." Maester Luwin passed the letter to Robb and he unrolled it with urgency.

Kyra peered over his shoulder at the letter.

_Robb,_

_I'm sorry to inform you of this so late. While in King's Landing, Ned and I came to find out that the assassin who attempted at Bran's life wielded none other than Tyrion Lannister's dagger._

_Ser Rodrik Cassel and I were staying a night at an inn when Tyrion and the men of the Night's Watch came, too. Tyrion revealed my presence and I had no choice but to expose his crimes._

_I am now taking him into custody here at the Vale of Arryn. We have only just set off on the eastern road and I  
will not be returning home until he has been trialled and punished for his crimes. I do not know how long this will take._

_Be careful, take care of Bran and Rickon, and tell everyone that I miss them._

It was signed by Lady Catelyn's hand at the bottom. Robb stared at it for a few moments longer. "To believe he stayed in our home twice..."

"Wait." Kyra broke in. "Tyrion Lannister is smart. Surely he wouldn't arm an assassin with his own blade."

"Are you defending him?" Robb turned his cold steel gaze to her, cutting into her as he accused, but she didn't flinch.

"Of course not. I'm simply looking at the facts. Would you give an assassin your sword to kill with?"

He looked around the room uncomfortably, seeing the calm sense in her question, and leaned back in his seat. "No."

"Exactly. Then we will wait until the perpetrator has been decided by the royal court in King's Landing before we make any moves." Kyra told him.

Theon grinned and chuckled. "See how she rules you, Robb?" He opened his mouth to say more when Robb snapped.

"Shut your mouth," he growled, standing abruptly and pushing his chair back with a nasty scraping sound. He didn't say another word before turning and leaving the room in a flourish of furs.

"He's not in the best mood today," Maester Luwin mused quietly. "It would be best not to irk him."

"I see that now," Kyra agreed with a pointed look at Theon. "I have my doubts that he'll be back for supper." She stood also, stretching. "However, we shouldn't wait up for him. I'm hungry."

Theon echoed his agreement and as she strode towards the great hall, the Greyjoy followed silently.

**~**

Robb never did turn up to dinner. Kyra figured he would get something later on, when he was finally done. She chose not to worry, and instead made her way to her room to wash herself and read until she fell to sleep.

But the moon had barely risen, and by the time she got out of the bath, it was just above the horizon. She sighed, not feeling the slightest ounce of exhaustion but yearning to fall asleep.

She grabbed her book and before long was completely enraptured as the words swallowed her whole. She always had loved to read, and that had never changed.

To her despair, she felt the unread pages dwindling away slowly as she reached the end of her book. _Such a shame, I've only been reading it for a few days now._ She wished the story would last longer.

Finally when she set the finished book aside, she felt both fulfilled and dejected. The round completion of a quality story was satisfying, yet she wished it had lasted longer, or swallowed her straight into the world of it so she could live in it forever.

Kyra sighed. _Oh, it always feels like this when I finish a book._ She swung her legs out from the side of the bed and reached for another book she borrowed from the library tower when a sudden thought hit her.

 _Has Robb eaten?_ She felt a flash of concern as she propelled forward and grabbed her cloak, fastening it around her before swinging out the door.

Luckily Robb's room was only a short stroll away from her own. She knocked promptly and politely on his door and there was a small scuffling noise before the thump of heavy footsteps. Then the door swung open to reveal Robb, still dressed in his leather jerkin and breeches, with his high leather boots. He'd forgone the cloak, though.

Although he looked as fine as ever, everything he did simply screamed with exhaustion. His eyes were dead tired and he leaned on the doorframe with his hand. He was trying to stand up straight but he was unfortunately failing.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said, his voice reflecting his fatigue. She hadn't noticed earlier on in the day, but he had faint dark circles surrounding his eyes.

"Have you eaten yet?" Kyra asked him. He hesitated, then slowly shook his head somewhat guiltily. "Oh, you idiot. I'll bring you something, stay there." Before he could cut in and refuse, she was already powering down the stairs.

 _Of course he didn't eat. He's so busy. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say he hasn't slept in a few days._ She mused anxiously. "Fool," she muttered aloud as she entered the now abandoned kitchens silently and grabbed a basket, filled it with freshly baked bread from earlier that day and some of the leftover deer they had eaten for dinner before racing back upstairs to his room.

She didn't knock that time, simply entered (in hindsight, she realised this was disrespectful) and strode up to him. She dropped the basket of food on his desk unceremoniously and he jumped, staring at the bread then up at her.

"Why were you so worried?" He asked tentatively, gazing at her and then back to the food, then at her again.

"Because, you need to keep your strength up if you're going to succeed as Lord of Winterfell. And two things you must fulfill to ensure that you do;" she gave him a pointed glare. "Eating and sleeping."

Guiltily he looked down. "It's not intentional. There's just so much to do."

"Then get us to help! You think your father did all of this work alone?" Kyra raised an eyebrow. "Your mother or Maester Luwin probably helped him."

Robb was silent for a moment, stewing in his nescience. "You're right," he murmured slowly.

"And don't you forget it." She turned away and promptly sat on his bed.

Robb was still for a few moments before he turned to her, frowning at her over the back of his chair. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting until you've eaten so I can make sure you get to sleep." Kyra answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Don't you need to sleep?"

"Of course I do. You need it more though, and seven hells if I'll let you sit here and keep getting malnourished." She leaned back, resting her body weight on her hands which were extended onto the bedcovers behind her.

Silently he turned back and reached out towards the food she'd brought him. For a moment he stopped, as if he were going to say something, but decided against it and began eating. For the next few minutes, it was silent in the room and Kyra found herself studying Robb from behind. His curls were probably better than her own hair, although not as dark. Even from the back he looked tired, hunched over and sighing quietly as he ate.

"Robb," she murmured softly, half without thinking. "Are you really okay?"

He pause, and the room was dead silent for a few moments. "I miss mother and father," he admitted. "Gods, I miss everyone so much. Arya, Sansa, even their bickering. And Septa Mordane, Jory, Ser Rodrik... It's all changed so much from when you first arrived."

"It has." She affirmed quietly, pushing herself to her feet and standing beside his bed. "You know that no matter where you lead us, I'll always stand beside you."

Her words hung in the air. She began to doubt that he'd even heard, until he slowly stood. He turned to face her, and by the Gods, some external source had breathed life into him. His eyes blazed in the dark, the candlelight glimmering in his eyes. The brilliant blue orbs which she had come to cherish so much bore into her very soul, and as he approached her, she couldn't find her feet and force them to back away like her instincts were screaming at her to do. His body was so much larger than hers, in both height and width. It was imposing, for the first time, and she inwardly damned whichever side of the family gave her such a small body.

But she wasn't afraid. Robb never made her afraid, even now. Instead, while he was bearing down on her with some wild emotions blazing in his eyes, she felt alive.

His arms wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides and rendering her defenceless, but she met his gaze squarely. He won't hurt me. He never even thought of doing anything of the sort, she soon found.

Then his lips were on hers, and she swore the world turned upside down.

She was too stunned to respond. It felt like everything was going double speed, and her head was reeling as his lips devoured hers. She numbly realised that her lips fit into his, and that was when she realised she was kissing him back.

Kyra's body moved without her mind's consent. It seemed like her mind was too stupefied to think any longer, and her senses had taken over for her. She pulled her arms free and locked them around his neck, pulling him even closer to her than he had been before. The air was suddenly more heated than she'd ever had to stand before, even in King's Landing.

Then suddenly it was over, and he pulled away from her. Her mind toppled back to the present and she simply stated at him, stunned.

 _He's Lord of Winterfell! You're his... His lowly comrade!_ The rational side of her screamed inwardly. "I-I'm sorry," she found herself stammering an apology even though he started it. "I sh-should really-"

"No." He interjected, taking her hands in his own. "Stay."

"Wha... What?" She stared at him dumbly, his words slowly registering in her head.

He simply pulled away from her and sat on the bed. "I don't care what you thought that was. I need you." Immediately he recoiled and reworded his statement. "Meaning, I want you to sleep in this bed tonight."

"Oh..." _It's a command from your Lord. You can't refuse._ Her rational brain tried to make a justifiable reason to pardon it. "If it please you."

With much protests from her body, she pulled her hand away and walked around to the other side of the bed, climbing in. She didn't care that she was still in her jerkin and trousers, instead of her sleeping cottons, but she was not under any circumstances sleeping without clothing. Robb swiftly climbed beneath the fur covers and his arm immediately wrapped around her, pulling her close to him.

She felt heat spread into her cheeks as she felt his muscular chest through his clothes, pressing into her back, and his strong arm around her abdomen. She didn't know which emotion was the one swirling in her stomach; apprehension, love, flustering or desire. It was a squirmy feeling that made her feel uncomfortable and hot. _I don't think we should be doing this,_ she bit the inside of her cheek as Robb rested his head on the top of hers, his breathing slowing. It felt so wrong, to be sleeping by his side like this, but yet... It felt so perfect.

**~**

Kyra thanked the Gods that she woke so early, else someone would have seen her sneak out of Robb's chambers and assumed the worst. His arms were locked around her, so tight that she almost couldn't escape without waking him. When she shifted and slowly slipped out of his grasp, he let out a soft murmur in his sleep but didn't stir. She breathed a sigh of relief as she grabbed her cloak and pulled it around her as she stealthily slipped outside and skulked down the hall towards her own room.

She couldn't get back to sleep, though. Her mind was whirling with thoughts, and it was driving her crazy. _What did that mean? Does he love me? Do I love him?_

That one question put a stop to her thoughts and instead filled her head with an equally unnerving inquiry. "Do I love him?" She murmured inaudibly to herself, shifting in her bed.

She didn't know what romantic love felt like. The closest thing she knew was the love for her mother and her friends. If she assumed correctly, they had not much in common.

Kyra recalled how it felt every time he embraced her, or smiled at her and especially kissed her. Unconsciously her fingers caressed her lips, remembering what his touch felt like. Warm and beautiful, like the kiss of the sun after a long winter and the feeling of a weight being lifted off her chest combined.

 _How long have I felt like this?_ It was a question she could not confirm, for it was too ambiguous an answer. As she shifted in her bed, remembering the warmth of his body pressed against hers and the blooming sensation of joy whenever he smiled, the realisation hit her like a stampede of horses.

**~**

_What have I done?_

Robb woke feeling more fulfilled than ever, thanks to his wonderful rest, but then he remembered who he fell asleep beside and the coldness in the sheets that greeted him upon waking.

In the heat of the moment, he knew he shouldn't. But he did. Their honour were at stake, thanks to his foolish actions. _It was not my place to force myself onto her like that._ He blamed himself fully. _I must apologise, tell her it was a mistake._

But was it? He couldn't help but feel like it was completely overdue, and after all, hadn't she responded by kissing him also?

His head hurt. Arguing with himself never came out with a good decision. He pushed himself out of bed and changed into a different pair of clothes, since he's slept in his jerkin, and pulled on his cloak. He needed to find her and apologise, nevertheless.

**~**

Kyra couldn't keep her head on straight, no matter how hard she tried. She hadn't seen Robb yet, and the sun had already been up for two hours. Wouldn't he have tried to find me by now?

Her breakfast suddenly looked incredibly unappealing. She pushed her plate forward and stood, earning a few quizzical glances from the other members of the table.

"I've lost my appetite," she told them quietly before pushing her chair back and swiftly exiting the dining hall into the frosty morning air.

 _I need to find him,_ she told herself adamantly. _But where would he be, other than breakfast?_

Kyra decided to check his room. Perhaps he hadn't woken yet. But when she came to his door and knocked politely, there was no answer.

Defeated, Kyra sighed and tramped back to her room. If he wasn't anywhere in Winterfell, which she was sure she would have seen him by now if he was, then there was no telling where he was. 

"I need a bath, and a good rest." She told herself aloud as she closed her door behind her. She began running her own bath and while she waited, she changed out of her apparel and laid new garments on her bed, as she had slept in the other clothes.

She sunk into the steaming bath water and sat as her thoughts steamed in the water. This new revelation to herself was tumultuous, and dangerous to her place in Winterfell. As the Imp had told her, she was in love with him. And there was sweet nothing that she could do about it, for he probably would marry some highborn girl and have stupid highborn children who would rule Winterfell. _Not my children. It should be our children._ She thought bitterly. _But it won't be. Just as he said._

She couldn't sit dormant any longer. With a huff of frustration, vexed that even a hot bath couldn't get him off her mind, she pulled herself out of the tub and began to dry herself.

_There's no doubt about it. I need to find him and sort this mess out._


End file.
